


99¢ Dreams

by MilkTeaMiku



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:03:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 42,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7694137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkTeaMiku/pseuds/MilkTeaMiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance works at a corner store to make a little extra money for his family. The most interesting part of his day is usually chasing out the ducks from the lake down the street that come to steal bread - that is, until his old rival, Keith, walks in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pink Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you like Pink Lady or Granny Smith apples?”

Lance worked at a 99¢ corner store. The building itself was a left over memory from a big, European building boom that had to have happened least a hundred years ago. While it was a very nice place, it was ridiculously old, and didn’t have air conditioning that worked well. The intricate wall runners and the delicate awning collected dust like it was going out of fashion and sometimes the front door got a little stuck on the floor which meant he had to scrub out the resulting smudge.

At least he didn’t have to wear a uniform. The owner of the store – or at least, he was the guy that ordered Lance around – only insisted he wear a plain apron, which wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t like many people came in during his shifts, anyway.

He lived in a really quaint town, after all. He quite liked it. They had a big supermarket only a few streets over so that was where most people bought their groceries, but the little 99¢ store still made enough to pay the bills, the employees and the farmers it got produce from while still maintaining a small profit margin. It was definitely some sort of miracle, Lance thought, considering he never really got that many customers. 

Sometimes that lack of customers led to him getting very bored. He was the type of guy who needed a lot of stimulation to function properly, which led to him rearranging shelves and fixing the bouquets flowers they sold in front of the store a dozen times a day. Regardless, he still spent ages slumped over the front desk or using the magazine stand as his own personal library, though Coran insisted he shouldn’t. The highlight of his day was often chasing out the giant ducks that waddled in from the lake down the street in order to steal bread.

One afternoon, when it was raining, he got a customer that was not a duck. He’d seen this particular boy around – it was hard to miss his hideous mullet – but he’d never been to Lance’s store before. He looked around like the store was incredibly foreign and it put Lance off a little. He knew the store got a bit of flak for being cheap and old, but there wasn’t anything wrong with it. Sure, they didn’t carry any of the big brands and their produce wasn’t all perfect, but the price was ridiculously good and everything was bough fresh from farmers.

When Lance’s family was tight on money, they’d always shop here. Everything tasted the same as branded food, anyway, and who cared if his apples had a bruise or two? He certainly didn’t, even if his mother only sighed at them when she thought no one was looking.

“Can I help you?” Lance asked, and yeah maybe he didn’t sound as friendly as he could have but he knew Keith wouldn’t care. He never had, after all; Lance was convinced they’d had some sort of rivalry at one point, though it was a long time ago.

Keith stiffened like a startled cat and gave Lance a thin look. It was like he hadn’t noticed Lance at all, which was infuriating. Lance was almost disappointed when Keith walked over to him and held out a small slip of paper. “I need these things,” he said expectantly.

Lance bit down a huff and took the paper. It was a pretty page torn from a notepad with flowers in the borders – something he never expected Keith to have in his possession. Maybe it was his mother’s? Though he’d never seen Keith’s parents before. He’d always thought Keith lived alone. Regardless, he glanced over the list. The little store had most of it, but he noticed that many of the items were listed as their brand names; they were popular enough that they could be called that. Why hadn’t Keith just gone to the regular supermarket?

“We should have most of this,” Lance said, nodding to himself. He picked up one of the baskets – made from wicker, because like the building, all of the stores amenities were old – and shoved it at Keith. “Here, you hold, I’ll grab.”

Keith looked very lost as Lance led him down the aisles.

“Do you like Pink Lady or Granny Smith apples?” Lance asked as he shook open a paper bag. The right half of the store, closest to the refrigerators, was mainly fresh produce. The sheer amount of fruit they had in stock always made the store smell very sweet. 

Keith gave him that same confused, pinched look again. “What’s the difference?” He muttered. 

Lance stared at him. Had this kid never shopped for himself before? Now that he thought about it, Keith had been quite willing to accept Lance’s offer of help. Most people politely declined. “I think you’d like Pink Lady better,” Lance said decisively. 

After he’d picked the nicer ones, trying to avoid the ones with bruises or the weirdly shaped ones, he placed them in Keith’s basket and turned back to his list. He put oranges, lettuce, tomatoes and carrots along with the apples from the fresh produce aisles in the wicker basket and while he was near the fridges, he got the dairy items Keith needed, too. Cheese and milk was a staple for most families, including Keith, but Lance was surprised to find eggs weren’t on Keith’s list. If Keith was living alone, eggs should probably be on his list – they were cheap and healthy and could be used in so many ways it was mind boggling. Lance’s family loved eggs.

“What brought you down here instead of the other market?” Lance asked as he led Keith around to the front of the store in search of bread and cereal. “We don’t carry a lot of these brands.”

In explanation, he showed Keith the cereal he’d shoved in the basket. It was basically the same as the name-brand version, just cheaper and in a different box. Buying knock-offs that tasted pretty much the same as a name-brand was a great way to save money. Lance remembered doing it a lot as a kid when he had to buy cereal like this for all his siblings, both older and younger. 

“They’re the same, right?” Keith asked, fidgeting. “I’m kind of picky.”

“Pretty much,” Lance said. “If you’re so picky, the main supermarket carries these brands, you know. We’re a bit too small to have the big ones.”

Keith ignored the question again, and pointedly glanced at the list Lance still held. “What’s next?”

There wasn’t much to go on his list. He fetched Keith his wholemeal bread and a box of honey flavoured oatmeal before adding them to the basket. There wasn’t any meat on the list. “You vegetarian, or something?”

“No,” Keith said.

Lance gave him a puzzled look.

Keith looked away.

The longer he spent around Keith, the more confused Lance became. He didn’t want to push any boundaries, though he probably usually would have. That’s what rivals did, after all. But today was different, so with some difficulty he held his tongue. “Right, right, well I think that’s it,” Lance said, peering into the basket. 

He’d gotten Keith the last items on the list – pasta, sauce, macaroni and plain muesli bars. He was almost disappointed that he didn’t have longer to question Keith, or at least think of questions to ask him. The thought shocked him. It wasn’t like he _wanted_ to get to know Keith, of course not. He was annoying and his hair was stupid. Lance didn’t care. Perhaps if the day hadn’t been so slow he wouldn’t be so interested. _Yeah, let’s go with that thought._

It was still raining when Lance rung up the items and carefully packed them away into paper bags. He was worried about the wet because he knew Keith had walked here and the rain wasn’t likely to stop for a while. If the apprehensive glances Keith shot towards the front door were anything to go by, he must have thought the same.

After a moment of hesitation, Lance dragged the wicker basket closer and carefully transferred the paper bags into it. “You can just return it tomorrow, or something,” he rushed to say when Keith frowned at him. He pulled the spare umbrella out from under the desk. “This too.”

“Don’t pity me,” Keith snarled.

Lance felt stung by the comment and it surprised him. He didn’t pity Keith, he just felt like he’d seen a different side, a more human side. “Walk in the rain if you want,” he snapped back, “or take the damn umbrella and just give it back tomorrow.”

Keith scowled at him, and almost looked like he’d do just that before he snatched up the umbrella and turned away. He agitatedly popped it open, facing down, by the door as he went to leave. Lance watched him with a petulant frown on his face, feeling odd and fidgety himself. Keith’s arm was being weighed down by his basket and his dark hair had fallen between his eyes and the light from the grey clouds outside was peeking over his shapely shoulders. He looked like he belonged in a painting and it made Lance feel _things._

“Thanks,” Keith murmured, just quietly, before the bell above the door tinkled and he left.


	2. Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I just can’t cook that well."

The ducks were _loud._ They came up to Lance’s knees in height and liked to flap their wings to intimidate him, squawking like hungry newborns all the while. “Not today!” He shouted at them as he chased them out of the bread aisle. “Go eat a fish or something, you lazy birds!”

They squawked at him again but soon enough all four of them were rushing out of the open door, stuck in a flurry of feathers and misplaced, webbed feet. One would think Lance would learn not to prop open the door with a box of books in the morning, but the fresh air was nice, dammit. 

Just outside the door there was a sudden, startled shout. Lance jerked upright, fearing the ducks had accidentally barrelled some little old lady over. “Hey, are you alright- oh, it’s just you.”

Keith scowled at him, his cheeks turning red. “What do you mean it’s just me? Why are there ducks in the store?” 

Lance only sighed at him. Couldn’t he catch a break? It was far too early in the morning for him to think of anything good to say, so he just held the door open. “They want to steal the bread. You coming in, or what?”

Keith did, but he couldn’t have possibly looked more reluctant when doing so. He had the store basket and umbrella clutched in his hands, and awkwardly placed them on the counter. Lance expected him to leave after that, but he didn’t. Instead, he just stood there, making himself look more and more awkward with every passing moment. He looked like he wanted something and opened his mouth to ask for it, but then closed it again, silent.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Lance asked, voice careful, eyebrows raised. 

“No,” Keith said sharply, before turning on his heel to stride out of the door like it had personally offended him. Lance just snorted, and shook his head. What a weird guy. 

 

“No, he just walked out, Hunk,” Lance insisted. “He looked like he wanted something.”

Hunk hummed at him. He was sitting on the stool behind the counter, leisurely flicking through one of the weird, specialty magazines he always bought from the store every week. “Maybe he just didn’t know how to leave without being awkward about it? He could have wanted to talk with you,” Hunk offered. He had a small box of donuts in front of him that he got from his work – at a quaint café down the street – that Lance could smell even through the ever-present scent of fruit.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Sure, that’s what he was doing,” he said. Keith, talk to him? Yeah, right. That hardly felt like it would happen, so he turned back to what he was doing. He had a crate full of fruit that he was carefully dismantling from the display, ready to go into the refrigerator for the evening. The Pink Lady apples stubbornly reminded him of Keith. “You know he didn’t even buy eggs yesterday? Who doesn’t buy eggs?”

“How blasphemous.”

 _“Hunk,_ seriously, listen. Am I just overthinking this? Cause it’s stuck in my head, man.”

“You’re definitely overthinking it.”

Lance groaned, and dropped the full crate by the storeroom door. “He just looked so _lost!”_ He complained, throwing his arms up in the air. “It was like he was a puppy and someone had kicked him.”

“Did you just call Keith Kogane a puppy?”

“Yes!” Lance stressed. “And it’s despicable, trust me, I can’t believe I said it, but it’s true! He didn’t know where anything was, man, but at least he wasn’t buying microwaveable meals. He wanted bread and pasta and stuff. Do you think he lives alone or something?”

“How do you remember what he bought? I think his mother works abroad, doesn’t she? He probably lives alone,” Hunk said, looking up thoughtfully. “He probably has to cook and clean for himself.”

Lance let out an indignant sound, and snatched up a donut. Dramatically. “Does he even know _how?”_

“I think you’re thinking on this a bit too much, Lance,” Hunk chuckled, resting his chin in his palm as he watched Lance finish his work. “You’ve always had a weird thing going with Keith, huh? Do you like him?”

“What? No!” Lance spluttered, shaking his head. “What made you think that? I definitely don’t like him. Definitely not. His hair is too stupid.”

“You’re the only one who stares at his hair,” Hunk said dryly. “You know, he probably likes you, too. Maybe you can help him.”

Lance gave Hunk a sour look. He had been best friends with Hunk for as long as he could remember, and Hunk had always had a knowledgeable grasp on Lance’s instincts and feelings. They spent a lot of time together – like now, when Hunk waited to walk home with Lance after his shift at the shop. He knew Lance would never leave someone to flounder; it wasn’t how his _Mamá_ had taught him to be. The thought of anyone having an improper diet or sleeping in a bed that hadn’t been washed, even if it was Keith of all people, had Lance itching to help.

But it wasn’t like Keith would accept his help, anyway. Keith was way too prideful for that. And Lance was too prideful to offer. Keith couldn’t even thank Lance for helping him with the umbrella, not properly. Then again, maybe he was shy? Keith didn’t really seem like the shy type. Thinking about it made Lance’s head spin.

“I don’t like him,” Lance eventually muttered, finishing off his donut as he turned back to work.

Hunk only chuckled at him. “Sure you don’t, buddy.”

 

The next day, Lance’s first visitor to the store was not, in fact, the usual flock of ducks, but rather it was the mullet-boy-he-did-not-like. Lance had finished stacking the fruit and arranging the fresh bouquets of flowers for the day when Keith wandered in. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed a basket and headed to the bread aisle, so Lance didn’t bother him.

He’d thought about what Hunk had said for a long time last night. Lance had learned that Hunk was usually right when it came to those kind of things, even if he was wrong about Lance liking Keith. It always turned out better for him if he took Hunk’s words on board earlier rather than later, so he’d decided to help Keith – but only if Keith asked.

To be perfectly honest, he hadn’t expected Keith to ask. He didn’t think Keith liked him all that much.

But he did ask. Kind of.

“You should probably buy eggs,” Lance had said when Keith came to the register. “They’re healthy and they go with everything, you know.”

Keith gave him a look, then looked away, almost like he was embarrassed. “I don’t know how to cook them,” he muttered.

“You don’t…” Lance trailed off flatly. “You don’t know how to cook _eggs?”_

“Don’t mock me,” Keith snarled. He looked visibly upset now, and Lance instantly felt bad about it. He hadn’t meant to upset Keith, and he certainly wasn’t mocking him, so he said as much.

“I’m just surprised,” he said as he placed Keith’s items in a paper bag. “My parents cook my family things with eggs all the time. There’s a lot of different ways a person can eat them. Do you like them?”

Keith hesitated, then nodded, looking red in the cheeks. “I just can’t cook that well,” he mumbled.

It made Lance think that he really didn’t live at him. “Go get some, I think you’ll be alright. They’re quick and easy, I swear.”

Again, Keith hesitated. He glanced at Lance with those big, dark eyes of his. “Will you show me how?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really rushed and not edited in the slightest, ahh ^^" I'll go back in and rewrite it tomorrow, but I doubt much will change so I feel alright with posting now~ I went to my first concert tonight and I have a veeeery early morning tomorrow so I hardly had time to write! Sorry ^____T


	3. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How the hell did you burn so many of them so badly?"

Lance had been taught to cook by his parents when he was old enough to know how to turn the oven on. He’d stand on a little stepping stool and watch his father flip omelettes or sit on the edge of the bench to hold the mixing bowl while his mother whisked some sort of batter. He was pretty sure he could cook anything if he had patience and a recipe.

And sure, no one would ever be as good a cook as Hunk, but Lance was decent enough to brag about it. 

He said he’d help Keith, but only because Lance knew he was better and his _Mamá_ would wallop him about the head if she knew he’d left someone to fend for themselves, clueless. Besides, as much as he considered Keith his rival, Keith didn’t deserve to live all alone and hungry, cause that was what Lance was fearing now. Why else would he be so lost in a grocery store?

So Keith gave Lance his number, and Lance stared at him until he left the grocery store, and that was that.

Lance could hardly believe it himself. He had mullet-boy’s phone number. How many girls in school had pawed after it, and there it was, sitting in his phone? It was kind of infuriating, though he didn’t know why.

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Keith,” Hunk said to him as they walked home that evening. 

“It’s not a date!” Lance choked out, shaking his head vehemently. “I’m just making sure he… Doesn’t burn his kitchen down, or starve. Yeah, that’s it. You hear that, Hunk?”

Hunk laughed quietly, looking quite amused. “You’re going to his house to make dinner. That sounds like a date, don’t you think?”

“N-no!”

“Just don’t mess it up, yeah?” Hunk said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay if you do end up liking him, Lance. I think he likes you a lot, but this rivalry thing you’ve had going has always put him off.”

See, that didn’t make sense to Lance. He’d always thought Keith reciprocated the rivalry, and he always used to rise to the bait if Lance left it. He hadn’t really done anything to make Lance think he liked him, and he was pretty sure he would have noticed if Keith had. Besides, there wasn’t much about him that he thought Keith would actually _like._ He knew he wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, even if he claimed to be.

And _that_ was it, wasn’t it? The thought that made Lance know Hunk was very wrong, just this once. He didn’t have anything to offer Keith, and he was fine with that.  
Undoubtedly. No problem at all.

 

Keith lived in a small, but spacious house. From the outside it looked so ridiculously normal that Lance was incredibly put off. He didn’t know what he expected from Keith, but his tiny home – not quite an apartment, but not quite a house, either – was not what Lance had ever imagined.

He was kind of nervous. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was. The normalness of it made him feel odd. There was a line of shoes by the front door and a little _welcome_ sign hanging on the wall. A small, potted plant lay half-wilting by the doorstep, just like the ones Lance had back at his own home. It was so _domestic._

The door opened. Lance was so enraptured with frowning at the house that he hadn’t even remembered to knock yet. Clearly, Keith had been anticipating him, and had gotten impatient. He gazed up at Lance out from under his hair, of which was tied into a startlingly attractive ponytail. He was wearing casual clothes – a red shirt that _almost_ fell off of one of his shoulders, and black pants that his bare feet poked out of. 

Lance felt his cheeks turning red. This look suited Keith, and he would have been blind not to see it. How could such a simple outfit look good? It definitely wasn’t fair. Lance felt overdressed, but he’d dressed casual too, and only wore a jacket and shoes more than Keith. To hide his embarrassment he coughed, and held up the bag in his hands. “I bought more food.”

Keith’s eyebrows drew together, his eyes going light with curiosity as he peered at the bag. “What did you get?”

Lance grinned. “Just you wait and see, mullet-boy. Nothing’s better than a little Spanish flare in a meal, you’ll see!”

 

Just like the outside of the house, the kitchen was quaint and quintessentially domestic. There weren’t any decorations or coloured tiles or knick-knacks like in Lance’s kitchen, but it was sleek and modern and easy to cook in. “I can’t believe you don’t know how to cook when you have a nice kitchen like this,” Lance had complained. “What do you even do in your free time?”

“What, you cook?” Keith had answered defensively, his arms crossed.

“Of course I do,” Lance had said. He had his head stuck in Keith’s fridge, inspecting what food he had, as he’d talked. “My little siblings love my omelettes. Everyone in my family cooks.”

That had sparked a conversation about family, though Lance did most of the talking. He told Keith about his siblings – all seven of them – and how he had more cousins than he could count. They’d all go to each other’s houses regularly for dinners and bonfires, so food played a really important part in his life.

Lance wasn’t surprised to find that Keith’s cupboards only really contained the things he’d bought from the 99¢ store. Sure, there were other things shoved into the back of drawers and cupboards, but they were coated in dust and looked ancient. At least, again, there were no microwaveable meals.

“Do you live alone?” Lance asked as coolly as he could as he pulled out a pan. He’d been riffling through the drawers in the kitchen, trying to familiarise himself with where everything was.

“Yeah,” Keith answered. He didn’t sound too upset about it. “My mother works abroad.”

“What about your dad?”

“He does as well. We don’t really get along.”

Lance paused, taking the information in. How could Keith talk so distantly about his relationship with his parents? He shook his head, and turned the stove on. “Sorry,” he said.

Keith gave him a surprised look. “Why?”

Lance frowned, and turned away. “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “Aren’t you meant to be learning? Come watch, or you’ll never know how to cook.”

Keith stood off the stool he’d been sitting on and wandered over. His feet made little noises against the tiled floor. “What are you doing?”

“Heating up the pan,” Lance explained as he filled the very bottom of the pan with water. He shifted, and his own sock-covered feet were silent. “Poaching eggs are pretty much the easiest way to cook them.”

Keith nodded. He was watching with an avid expression. Having that attention directed at Lance made his stomach clench. “What do you do?” Keith asked.

“It’s pretty simple,” Lance began. Teaching Keith couldn’t be all that hard, really.

 

Teaching Keith was _impossible._ He burned things like crazy and got absentminded at the drop of a hat. One minute he’d be on track and everything was fine, and the next boiling water would be bubbling over the edge of the pan or something would turn into charcoal. 

“Eggs are _not_ this difficult!” Lance complained as he frantically scrubbed what was left of one off the surface of a pan. His arms were starting to ache from the effort of it. “How the hell did you burn so many of them so badly? Did we go through a whole dozen?”

Keith looked positively miserable. He was poking at the one egg Lance had managed to cook without Keith’s misfortune interfering. It looked perfect. “I’m sorry,” he said despondently. “I wasted so many.”

Lance sighed, and glanced at the pile of burnt or inedible (but cooked… or overcooked) eggs he had dumped in a bowl. “It’s alright, the dogs at home will eat them,” he said. “They eat anything.”

Keith nodded. He still looked pitiful, and for some reason, it made Lance upset. It wasn’t like Keith had done any of it on purpose, after all. He just really didn’t know how to cook.

“Let’s just clean up, yeah?” Lance suggested. There were cracked egg whites on the floor and flakes of burned food on the bench, not to mention the pile of dishes they’d worked through. It was getting pretty late now, too, and Lance didn’t really want to walk home in the dark. “Then I’ll make you dinner and go. You can’t eat any of this.”

A surprised look was thrown his way. Suddenly, Keith didn’t look quite as despondent as before. “Alright,” he agreed, moving away from the bench. “I can clean, at least.”

Lance nodded, and turned back to the sink. The water was gross but the pan was almost clean. He was almost done when he heard Keith let out a startled sound. He turned his head around just in time to see Keith slip on one of the spilled eggs. It would have been comical if Keith hadn’t instinctively grabbed onto the back of Lance’s shirt and pulled him down with him.

The pan clattered to the floor with a loud, wet bang. Lance let out a shout as he fell back-first to the floor. Stars danced behind his eyes for a second and he groaned, blinking several times. When he opened his eyes again, they flew wide open.

Keith’s hands were planted on either side of his head. His knees were spread across Lance’s hips, his back arched to keep himself from falling. His face was as red as his shirt and his eyes were _huge_ and irresistibly dark from this close. 

Lance’s heart frantically pounded in his chest. They were nose-to-nose.


	4. Emoji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a little star emoji beside that last message and it was really cute.

Lance let out the most pitiful, punched out noise he’d ever heard. “Y-you right there, buddy?” He wheezed, his fingers scrabbling uselessly against the floor. He could feel soapy water spilt from the sink soaking into his jeans and his heart was trying to burst out of his chest and Keith’s eyelashes were _ridiculously long and thick and that’s so not fair._

Keith blinked at him. His lips were parted, just a little, and Lance couldn’t help but glance at them and gulp. He was close enough that Lance could feel the warm puffs of Keith’s breath. It made Lance’s lips tingle. Keith wouldn’t kiss him, right? 

“S-sorry,” Keith finally said, completely breathless, pulling back up. He scrambled to his feet and nervously stuck out his hand to help Lance up. Not wanting to make the situation any tenser, Lance accepted the help. Keith’s hand was smaller than his, but not by much, and his skin was rougher. His grip was surprisingly warm.

“It’s fine,” Lance said quickly. “You really are a klutz, huh? Didn’t expect that.”

Keith flushed, and scowled. “I’m not!” He snapped.

“Yeah, yeah, back to cleaning, mullet-boy,” Lance snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. He hoped Keith didn’t see how red his cheeks were when he turned back to the sink.

 

The next day at work found Lance very distracted. He dropped a whole punnet of strawberries and bought them out of guilt to snack on during the day. He couldn’t stop thinking about Keith and it was driving him crazy. Not only couldn’t he stop worrying about Keith’s damn inability to care for himself, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes either. Or how pretty his cheeks were when they were red. Or his lips.

See? Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

It didn’t help that Keith was texting him. Like, nonstop. Mostly, he asked questions about food. Lance had made him eat the egg he’d cooked because it was perfect, but he’d also made two servings of pasta so that Keith would have something to eat for the next few meals. That little brat, _however,_ didn’t even know how to heat it up. 

Seriously, Lance had never known anyone who was so incapable in the kitchen. Even his youngest siblings could cook more than Keith could. In fact, Lance was pretty sure Keith only knew how to make toast, cereal and those disgusting energy shakes that people thought were appropriate supplements for actual meals. Really, he was a danger to himself. It was Lance’s _duty_ to make sure he didn’t poison himself or starve to death, both of which seemed like very likely possibilities. 

_It tastes good,_ Keith told him after he’d finally figured out how to reheat the pasta properly. He’d done it once and half the pasta had still been cold.

 _Of course it does,_ Lance had replied. _I made it, after all!_

Someone, he found himself smiling at the messages. He started to expect them, after a little while; they came in frequently so he felt safe enough to do so. At first they were just about cooking, and a lot of it was Lance getting a kick out of Keith’s complete lack of skills. But then it wasn’t – he doesn’t quite know them, but it became a conversation. An _actual_ conversation.

“Crazy, right?” He told Hunk that afternoon as they walked home together. Hunk smelled like baked sweets and it made Lance hungry.

“What, that you get along with him?” Hunk laughed to himself quietly. “No way, I predicted this. You guys have complimentary personalities.”

Lance just snorted. “Whatever. He still can’t cook.”

Hunk just placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And that’s what you’re around for.”

Lance sighed. That evening, when he was behind his closed door in his bedroom, he let himself think about the entire situation a little bit more. He kind of liked being needed for something like this, even if it was for Keith. He was used to taking care of his little siblings, but they were starting to reach that age where they didn’t want their big brother to make them lunches and pander after them as much. Lance had always liked to care for others; in a way, he was kind of caring for Keith now, wasn’t he? Who else would make sure that Keith ate properly until one of his parents returned him?

Thinking about it, Lance didn’t know when Keith’s parents were returning home. He hadn’t asked. Maybe he’d ask the next time they saw one another.

_Next time…_

Now that was a weird thought. He hadn’t ever considered that there would be a next time, but he knew there would be. Keith couldn’t cook, after all. Still, thinking about being in Keith’s home and actually spending time with him like he had made Lance feel oddly nervous. He rolled over on his bed, holding his pillow tight, and ghosted his fingertips across his lips. It was like he could almost feel Keith’s breath puffing against them again.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss Keith. What if Keith had done it then? Lance thought it was too soon, and was a little glad Keith hadn’t done anything. He was struggling to think of Keith as anyone other than a rival, but deep down he wondered if he’d stopped thinking like that ages ago. Hunk had mentioned something like that, hadn’t he? Lance couldn’t remember.

But Hunk _had_ said it would be alright if he liked Keith. Maybe he was right about that, after all. Lance wasn’t ashamed to admit that he thought Keith was aesthetically pleasing to look at, even if he did have horrible hair.

Lance groaned, and rolled over. This was doing his head in. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Keith? He hoped Keith couldn’t stop thinking about him too, just so he wasn’t the only one suffering. 

Almost as if Keith could read his mind, Lance’s phone beeped. He knew it was Keith, because no one else would message him at this time of night. He glared at his phone where it sat on his nightstand for a moment before curiosity got the better of him and he reached for it. The message was indeed from Keith.

 _I tried to make eggs again,_ he said. His message was followed by a half-blurry picture of a poached egg. The yolk was cracked and spreading everywhere and it looked a little burnt, but at least it was edible. 

_I’m surprised you can actually cook,_ Lance replied. 

_I’m learning from the best._

Lance stared at the text until his eyes started to water. He wanted to splutter, but instead he just flushed. Was Keith _complimenting_ him? Since when did Keith know how to compliment people? Lance was so dumbfounded by it that he couldn’t even think of a proper way to answer him.

 _I should probably go to bed,_ came Keith’s rushed reply. Then, _Goodnight._

Lance muffled a whine into his pillow. There was a little star emoji beside that last message and it was really cute. How could Keith be cute? Lance didn’t know, but there he went, being freaking adorable, just like a goddamn puppy. _I’m going to teach you how to cook pasta next, mullet-boy,_ he said, followed by a quick and emoji-less, _Goodnight._

It took Lance a moment of silence spent staring at his ceiling, covered in glow-in-the-dark stars, to realise that he was doomed. He was definitely going to develop a major crush on Keith at this rate, and Keith just wanted to learn how to cook. He was probably being friendly for once, not that Lance wasn’t as fixated on the whole rivalry thing, and here was Lance, reading into every little action like it meant something big and grand.

He groaned again, pressing his hands against his flushed, hot face. He just had to… _not_ develop a crush on Keith, that’s all. Easy-peasy. No worries. He had stupid hair anyway.


	5. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You definitely need to learn how to cook pancakes next!_

Lance woke up to a text from Keith the next morning. It was an innocuous little _good morning_ but it still surprised Lance. He opened the message and replied with a similar one of his own as soon as he saw it, hiding a smile in his pillow. It felt nice to be the one who wasn’t doing the chasing – Keith seemed to be putting effort into talking with him, which was something Lance deficiently noticed.

He didn’t have work that day, or university. He’d graduated from the Garrison – a school he attended to not only learn general education but also flight education – in the same year as Keith should have, but Keith had been expelled due to poor attendance. Now Lance was working and he had a seasonal apprenticeship with the Garrison’s flight program, as did most of the pilot graduates from the school. He thought Keith might be doing work at the closest air range, but he didn’t know. Maybe he would ask about that, too.

At the breakfast table, he received another text from Keith. Lance was in the middle of serving his siblings pancakes – it had been his turn to cook that morning – when his phone had buzzed. Like a pack of vultures his siblings descended on it, though it was his eldest brother that managed to snatch it up first.

“Oh, who’s texting you so early in the morning, Lance?” Emilio teased. Lance had never kept a password on his phone, mostly because he never really messaged anyone other than Hunk, Pidge and family members, but he was starting to wish he had. “Who’s _Keith?”_

“Give that back, you brute!” Lance cried, snatching his phone back. Emilio gave it up willingly before Lance could throw a hot pancake at his face. “How many times have I told you not to go through my phone?”

That earned him a round of snickers from the table. He just scowled at them, his cheeks flushing. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the right move on his behalf. He probably should have been cool about it, but whatever. He could do damage control.

“Who’s Keith?” 

Lance cringed. His _Mamá_ wandered into the kitchen beside him, her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail as she fixed her pyjamas. Saturday’s were always let-mother-sleep-in mornings, and this morning had been no different. She seemed to appreciate the effort her children put into it, at least, though meals cooked by the younger kids were always… interesting.

“No one,” he said before someone else could answer. “Just a friend.”

His _Mamá_ gave him a look. She was a small and petite woman, but she had strong hands and a very calculating gaze. Not even Emilio would dare stand up to her. In fact, Lance thought that no one in the world would, especially not if she hit them with her chocolatey, brown-eyed stare of death. Lance shuddered just thinking about it.

“Seriously,” he said, “I know him from when we were in the Garrison. His parents are away so I’m teaching him how to cook.”

She hummed at him, and nodded approvingly. “Pancakes for breakfast, then? Lance, you will make all our teeth rot with this sugar.”

He’d never been gladder for a subject change. “I could have made _torrija,”_ he pointed out, though it wasn’t exactly the right time of year for them. “I’ll make you a spinach omelette instead.”

Predictably, she took a seat and dragged a pancake onto her plate. Lance snorted, shaking his head. He was pretty sure she stuck her tongue out at him behind his back – the giggles at the table were an obvious indication – but it just made him smile. 

As he was putting his the dishes in the sink so that he could finally head to the table to eat himself, he quickly snuck a peak at his phone. Keith had sent him a picture of his breakfast – cereal, poured into one of the plain, white dishes Lance had seen in his kitchen. _At least I can make this without burning anything,_ Keith had written.

 _Good job, mullet-boy,_ he’d replied, before sneakily snapping a picture of his family members and all their pancakes that he then sent to Keith. Of course, he angled it so that his head was in the corner, a teasing peace sign thrown up for good measure. _You definitely need to learn how to cook pancakes next!_

“No texting at the table, Lance,” his _Mamá_ reminded him. 

Lance could sense a sassy remark coming along, and quickly shoved his phone back into his pocket. When _Mamá_ got started, it would never end.

 

It became a sort of _thing_ after that. Keith would send him photos of meals and text him regularly enough throughout the day that Lance began to look forward to his messages. Most of them were about food, and a lot of them were funny. Keith really was challenged in the kitchen. Lance had started to fear that he would burn water, if left alone, or worse – turn to _microwaveable meals._

During the evening, while Lance was getting prepared to head to a cousin’s house for one of their common, all-family-included bonfires, he got another text from Keith. He was sitting on his front porch, the front door behind him open as his family wandered in and out, flipping between thinking they had everything and then realising they’d forgotten something. Keith’s message was a welcome distraction. 

_I don’t know what to have for dinner, I ate all of your pasta._

Lance frowned thoughtfully, watching the little bubbles that indicated Keith was still typing. They paused for a moment, before starting up again. It was almost like Keith was playing a game with him, though Lance found that he didn’t particularly mind.

_It was really nice._

A small smile came to his face as he laughed. Keith was so nervous that it took him that long to send such a small message? It was kind of cute. 

_Can you cook for me again?_

Lance’s smile faded, just a little. _Tonight?_

Keith’s message took a little longer than he expected to come through. _Yes._

He was busy tonight, but he suddenly wished he wasn’t. He didn’t really know what to say to Keith. It wasn’t like he wanted to blow Keith off, because he really didn’t, but family was important and the thought of missing a bonfire made his chest feel tight. It had been a long time since he’d missed one, and even then it was only because he was ill or at the Garrison.

A sudden hum coming from over his shoulder made him jump. He definitely did not let out a shriek. It was Emilio standing over his shoulder, a contemplative look on his face. 

“Emilio!” Lance complained. “Don’t read my messages!”

Emilio just grinned. He had a rather sly smile, one that liked to pull at his cheeks and present pretty little dimples. _“Mamá,”_ he called over his shoulder, “can Lance bring a friend to _Tía’s_ house?”

 _“Sí,_ he can if he wants!” Came a shouted response from their mother.

Emilio placed a hand on Lance’s head and ruffled his hair in that annoying way older people always did. “There you go, Lance,” he said, grinning again. “Bring along your new friend!”

Lance scowled, his face red. “Thanks, Lio,” he mumbled.

“No problem, baby brother.”

Lance hid his face in the crook of his arm as he typed his response to Keith. He was embarrassed, but the knots in his stomach where definitely the beginnings of excitement. It made him eager.

_Want to come over for dinner instead?_


	6. Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have seven siblings."

It wasn’t a date. Definitely not. Emilio might have gotten all of his siblings to start singing _Lance is going on a date! Lance is going on a date!_ but it definitely was not a date. He’d only been talking – or seeing – Keith for a week, and he didn’t exactly think a week was long enough to get to know someone again, let alone to date them.

Long enough to develop a crush, sure, but not to date. He wasn’t that desperate.

He waited at his house for Keith to come. His _Tía_ only lived down the road so it wasn’t like it would be far for them to walk, so he texted Keith his home address. He knew Keith had a car – he’d seen car keys hanging up on a fancy hook by Keith’s front door – and it wasn’t like they weren’t both old enough to drive, so he didn’t worry about how Keith would actually get to his house.

Crickets were starting to chirp when Keith’s fancy silver car pulled into the driveway. Its wheels crunched over the ground noisily; it was a familiar sound, one Lance had become used to from when his parents came home for the evening. Hearing it and knowing that it was Keith, however, was far more nerve-wracking.

Keith was wearing dark, fitted jeans, a casual shirt that had no business looking so good on him and a cropped jacket. Why did he step out of his car like a model would? His legs so weren’t that long yesterday. Lance had the distinct urge to tell him that this wasn’t a shampoo commercial, and that there would be no high-powered fans waiting to blow his hair back in elegant tussles. Also, that he had fantastic legs. 

“Hey,” Keith said as he walked over, his hands stuffed into his pockets. 

“Hey,” Lance said. Did he sound nervous? He thought he sounded nervous. “You don’t mind a bit of a walk, do you?”

Keith’s eyebrows went up. “A walk?”

Lance stood. “Yeah, everyone is having dinner at my _Tía’s_ house, just down the street,” he explained. 

“Everyone? T-tia?”

“Ah, my family is eating at my Auntie’s house tonight,” Lance grinned. Keith’s nervous expression made him feel a little better; at least he wasn’t the only one. “My family likes to have bonfires a lot. There’s always heaps of food.”

Keith hesitated, before nodding. “Are you sure it’s alright for me to come…?”

“Yeah, it’s fine!” Lance said, waving a hand. “Friends are welcome.” _I can call him a friend, right? Right?_

Keith didn’t look completely convinced, but he nodded again. “Alright.”

“Let’s go, then.”

The street was pretty quiet as they walked, except for the ever present singing of the crickets. When summer came, there would be cicadas making noise, too. It was a nice night, Lance thought. Not too hot, not too cold. There was a small, refreshing breeze that cooled his skin.

“How many of your family members will be there?’ Keith asked him.

“Oh, most of them,” he said. “My close family is there already – I have seven siblings.”

_“S-seven?”_

Lance nodded. “Yep. I have two older and five younger siblings. I’ve never actually tried to count my cousins, so don’t ask. My relatives are keen on having big families,” he laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “My father is only one of two, but my mother is one of four. She always wanted a big family.”

“I don’t have any siblings,” Keith said.

Lance had suspected as much, though he still felt a little sad hearing it. He couldn’t imagine what his childhood would have been like if he hadn’t had all his brothers and sisters around to bother him. “Well, you can have one of mine. God knows I have enough.”

That earned him a small smile from Keith. Lance counted it as a win. Soon enough, his _Tía’s_ house appeared, accompanied by the sound of Spanish music and cheerful laughter. Lance led Keith around through the back gate, hoping not to come across any of his prying aunties on the way. Thankfully, the first person he came across was his _Mamá._

 _“Mamá,”_ Lance called, lifting a hand in a small wave, “this is my friend, Keith.”

His mother turned to face him, her eyes sharp and inquisitive. She was carrying a stack of plates that she expertly shuffled into one arm so that she could hold out her hand to Keith. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

Keith almost seemed to shrink away from her, though he did place his hand in hers. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he said politely. 

She nodded, and turned to Lance. “Your brothers are running their mouths again,” she warned him. “Lio enjoys teasing you far too much.”

Lance groaned. “Of course he does. What is he saying?”

 _“’Lance tiene un novio’,”_ she said, amused.

He let out a choked cry. _“Ese idiota!”_

She just chuckled, and left him in favour of taking the dishes to the serving table. 

Keith let out a sigh beside him. “She makes me nervous,” he mumbled to himself. “What were you saying? Who’s Lio?”

“Emilio,” Lance said, huffing. “He’s my eldest brother.”

“Did he do something wrong?”

“He just likes to make my life difficult,” Lance huffed. “Typical older sibling behaviour, really. Don’t believe a word he says.”

Keith laughed quietly. It was a pretty sound. “So Emilio is the oldest,” he said. He glanced around the backyard where there were heaps of people mingling. “Which one is he?”

Lance pointed him out. “The one by the tree, with the stupid smile.”

Keith laughed again. “You have the same smile.”

“Okay, _rude,”_ Lance said, though he wasn’t upset. “See the girl standing next to him? She has her hair braided.”

Keith nodded.

“That’s my second eldest sibling, Anahi,” Lance said. “Then it’s me.”

“So you’re one of the older siblings?”

“Yep,” Lance nodded. “That boy hiding under the serving table is Tomas. His twin brother, Valentín, is around here somewhere, but you can just call him Val. He’s the nicer one. Tomas just likes to create mischief. I wonder where he got _that_ from.”

“You talking about me, little brother?”

Lance jumped as Emilio appeared beside them. “Just telling the truth, big brother,” he said back tauntingly. 

Emilio grinned, and ruffled his hair. “You must be Keith,” Emilio said, turning to face Keith as he did with a sly look on his face. “We haven’t heard much about you. Lance is keeping you a secret.”

He said “secret” the way one might say “sordid love affair” and Lance was Not Impressed. “Like I said,” Lance said dryly, “don’t listen to a word he says.”

Emilio only laughed, and slapped Lance across the shoulder. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Keith,” he said before he turned away, but not before singing _“Lance tiene un novio”_ again.

 _“Él no es mi novio!”_ Lance shouted, flustered. Family members were starting to look his way, and in an embarrassed rush he grabbed Keith by the elbow and dragged him away from the main crowd. “Seriously, take one of my siblings if you want.”

“They seem nice,” Keith only said. He sounded amused. “What was he saying?”

Lance flushed, utterly embarrassed. Good thing Keith couldn’t understand them, then. He opened his mouth to answer Keith with some half-baked excuse when someone ran into his legs. He let out a noise of surprise, and bent down to pick up his youngest brother.

“Another sibling?” Keith raised his brows.

“Yep, the youngest,” Lance said, resting his fifteen-month-old brother on his hip. “This is Luciano, but we just call him Luci. _Luci, di hola,”_ Lance said, bouncing Luci in his arms a little to make him grin bashfully. Even if Emilio had the most handsome smile, nothing could beat Luci’s little, gummy grin.

 _“Hola,”_ Luci repeated, holding out a tiny, chubby hand in a wave.

Keith smiled at him, though he looked nervous. He probably didn’t have much experience around children. “That’s five, right?” He asked.

Lance nodded, and scanned the crowd again. “Ah, there, by my Mother,” he said, “that’s Adora. She’s next after Tomas and Val.”

Keith followed his gaze. “The one with the clips in her hair?”

Lance nodded again. “Yeah, that’s her. She loves hair ribbons. I swear, she has a hundred of them. They’re all she asks for on birthdays,” he said, before glancing at his youngest brother. “Luci, do you know where Polly is?”

Luci shook his head. His fingers had already found their way into Lance’s hair – he was a real cry baby, and loved to be held. He’d learned that if he didn’t want to be put down he could just hold onto someone’s hair and they wouldn’t be able to set him down.

“Polly?”

“She’s the second youngest,” Lance said, “but she’s really shy, even around family. She’s probably sitting inside somewhere. She’s only three, but she can read really well.”

“You have a lot of siblings,” Keith remarked.

Lance laughed. That sort of simple statement sounded hilarious coming from Keith, though he didn’t quite know why. “Yeah, you’re telling me,” he chuckled. He set Luci down after carefully freeing his hair and watched him wander off towards _Mamá_ before turning back to Keith. “Come on, we’ll go sit by the bonfire. Food should be up soon.”

The bonfire was already glowing warmly. It was more for show than anything; Lance’s family liked to stand around the back patio or in the kitchen rather than by the fire this early in the evening, so Lance knew it would be a safe place to sit away from his curious relatives. There were patio chairs settled around the fire pit, and with a sigh, Lance threw himself into one.

And if he happened to think that Keith looked _really_ good in the light of the fire, well that was no one’s business but his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Tía_ \- Aunt  
>  _Lance tiene un novio_ \- Lance has a boyfriend  
>  _Ese idiota!_ \- That idiot!  
>  _Él no es mi novio!_ \- He's not my boyfriend!  
>  _Luci, di hola_ \- Luci, say hello
> 
> Any corrections are welcome :')
> 
> I hope the names I chose for his siblings are alright. I meant to ask for suggestions yesterday, but I forgot ^^" I still haven't decided names for Lance's parents, so feel free to suggest some!


	7. Bonfire pt.I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I like the bonfire."

The fire was deliciously warm as Lance relaxed in the patio chair. After a few moments, Keith started to look quite relaxed, too. He still had his hands buried in his pockets but there wasn’t any tension left in his shoulders and he had his elbows rested casually on the arms of the chair. His dark eyes were focused intensely on the fire in the same way Lance’s often did.

“Do you do things like this with your family often?” Keith asked, turning his gaze to Lance.

Lance nodded. “Yeah, most weekends,” he said, grinning. “It’s a nice way to keep up with everyone.”

Keith nodded. “You have a big family,” he said. “How do you remember everyone?”

“Honestly, half the time I don’t! It seems like every week there’s a whole new family,” he chuckled. It was a joke, of course, but Lance’s family was quite large. “You’ll get used to it eventually.”

Keith nodded.

Lance faced the fire again to hide his flushed cheeks. Okay, so he’d implied that Keith would be around for a lot longer and Keith had agreed. That’s fine. It’s all cool. He definitely wasn’t embarrassed. “Are you hungry yet?”

“A little,” Keith answered, his face flushing delicately. “Are you sure you don’t mind me staying?”

“It’s fine,” Lance said. _“Mamá_ wouldn’t like it if you left now. I’m not the only one who brought a friend, so don’t worry about it. You’re welcome here.”

Keith seemed a little more reassured at that, and he nodded again. “I like the bonfire,” he offered.

“Yeah, we have them a lot on these kind of nights,” Lance said. _“Tía_ has the best fires, but don’t tell my mother I said that.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Do you have these dinners are your house too?”

Lance nodded. “Yep. I don’t know how they decide whose house to have it at, but every now and then it’s at mine. Trying to get the twins to behave is a _nightmare_ on those days. You know once they hid every fork in our house? Every single one! Even the plastic ones.”

Keith snorted. “Why forks?”

“I don’t even know,” Lance said. “I was digging forks out of my mattress for weeks.”

Conversation with Keith like that seemed so simple that Lance didn’t know what he’d been nervous about. They mostly talked about Lance’s family because he had no shortage of funny stories to tell. For what it was worth, Keith seemed to really enjoy hearing about his family. Lance wondered if Keith had ever wanted siblings, but didn’t ask. It wasn’t really the right time and place for a conversation like that. 

When dinner was being served, Keith looked rather surprised that the conversation was put on pause. For a second Lance thought that he’d completely forgotten the point of coming over at all – food. “I’ll go grab us plates,” Lance told him as he stood. “Just wait here, okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Lance said, grinning cheerfully. He was pretty sure Keith’s taste in food was incredibly basic, so he would be sure to pick food that he thought would be best for Keith. The serving table was already crowded with chatting people when he wandered over, though no one pushed or shoved anyone else. When he glanced over his shoulder once, he found that Keith was watching him with those wide, dark eyes of his, and it made Lance smile to himself a little.

When he had two plates laden with hand-picked food, Lance made his way back to the bonfire. Keith was exactly where Lance had left him, but Tomas and Val were leaning over the sides of his chair, whispering to Keith with teasing grins on their faces. That certainly couldn’t mean anything go, and he had to swallow back a groan.


	8. Bonfire pt.II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What did I say?"

Lance gave his mischievous younger siblings a doubtful look. “What are you two whispering about?”

Tomas gave him a grin full of teeth. It was his _I’ve done something bad and I’m sure you’ll absolutely love it!_ grin, which clearly meant nothing good. He was leaning over the arm of Keith’s chair, and he only leaned in further to reach Keith’s ear as Lance glowered at him. “Say it!” He whispered, grinning again. 

Keith swallowed. He had a nervous look in his eyes, but it wasn’t a bad look. _“Q-quiero besar a Lance,”_ he said. His voice shook and the pronunciation was absolutely terrible but Lance knew exactly what he was saying and just like that he was red all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“D-don’t teach him that!” He cried, pointing an accusing finger at Tomas. _“Quieres mete en problemas?”_

“No!” Val said, giving Lance a wide-eyed, pleading stare. “It was Tomas’s idea! Don’t tell _Mamá!”_

“It was not!” Tomas argued, pouting. He turned his own big eyes up at Lance, but it certainly didn’t look as convincing as Val’s puppy dog stare. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

Lance gave them a look, and sighed. “Go get something to eat before _Mamá_ finds you over here then, yeah?” He said as he took a seat and handed Keith his plate. “She’s probably already getting your plates ready- _oi,_ don’t steal off of Keith’s plate!”

Tomas laughed as he darted off, stolen food clutched between his fingers. Val followed him, though he looked far more rueful when doing so, and Lance just shook his head. _Siblings._ He loved them, don’t get him wrong, but damn they could be bothersome sometimes.

“Sorry about them,” Lance said, turning to face Keith again. He pulled Keith’s plate from his pliable fingers and swapped it for his own. “Tomas is a little demon.”

Keith blinked at him. He deficiently looked flushed. “What did I say? Was it bad?”

Lance turned a humiliating shade of red and coughed to clear his throat. “No, no, it wasn’t bad,” he said. It was the truth, right? Not bad at all. “Just probably don’t say it to others.”

“So it _was_ bad.”

“No, it really wasn’t!” Lance said, awkwardly leaning across his chair to pat Keith’s shoulder. “They’re just teasing you.”

“They said it was something you say to thank people,” Keith muttered. 

Lance laughed. “Ah, well, it’s not exactly that, but it doesn’t matter. If you want to tell someone thank you, can you just say it in English.”

“What is it in Spanish?”

_“Gracias.”_

_“Gracias,”_ Keith mumbled to himself, nodding. 

To explain the food he’d brought over from the serving table, Lance dragged his chair closer to Keith’s. The smell of fire smoke was starting to cling to his clothes and Lance was close enough to notice it. He tried to distract himself with explaining the food he’d brought – much of it was what one would expect at a dinner gathering, but there were Spanish dishes, too, like paellas and croquetas and meat cooked in flavours and sauces from all over Spain. Lance was sure that every single one of his family branches had brought a dish over to share – his mother had brought empanadas that his father had helped her make. He was sure to warn Keith about what might be a little hot for him, and pointed out what he might like the most (like the empanadas, though he was biased).

“You don’t have to eat anything you don’t like,” Lance said. “Just move it to the side.”

Keith nodded. He had this weirdly awed expression on his face, like he’d never quite seen so much food in one place.

“Does your family ever have events like this?” Lance asked as he began to eat.

Keith shrugged a shoulder. His legs were folded up on the chair now. “Not really,” he answered. “We get together for weddings and sometimes birthdays, but my parents are away a lot. It’s easier for me to stay home.”

That made Lance feel unexpectedly upset. Keith didn’t look lonely, but shouldn’t he have been? There wasn’t any way Lance could comprehend growing up like the way it seemed Keith had. He was the type of person to thrive in social situations, and he got homesick when he wasn’t around his family for more than a few days.

“I learned to cook a lot of different things at these bonfires,” Lance said, chuckling. He wanted to change the subject. “My aunties and uncles didn’t ever mind a nosy little brat in their kitchens.”

Keith smiled a little. “I guess everyone can cook in your family, huh?”

Lance laughed. “Well, Luci can’t!”

Now that seemed to make Keith more amused. “How did your older brother know me, by the way? You didn’t introduce us.”

“Ahah- well, I should put a passcode on my phone, is how,” Lance admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Wait, did he see my cooking…?”

“No, no!” Lance was quick to reassure Keith, who looked incredibly embarrassed at the idea. “Just your name. Siblings are seriously invasive. I swear, they’re practically vultures. They’ve already stolen your food, see?”

Keith laughed a little. “They’re not so bad,” he said.

Lance smiled to himself. “Nah, they’re not, but don’t tell them I said that. Can’t lose face or _I’ll_ be the next meal.”

They finished eating with little chatter after that. Keith would pause to ask what something was and how it was made, and Lance would explain before they continued to eat. Eventually the sky began to darken and the light from the fire became brighter and warmer. With the chatter of his family and the contentedness that good food brought him, Lance was completely and utterly relaxed. 

One by one, his siblings eventually came around to join them, even little Luci perched on Emilio’s lap. Lance was pretty sure the little kids had been given sweets by now because he saw Val guilty sneak a brightly wrapped lolly onto Keith’s plate when he thought no one was looking. And if Keith quietly whispered a sweet _thank you_ then he pretended not to notice that, too. 

He could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Quiero besar a Lance_ \- I want to kiss Lance  
>  _Quieres mete en problemas?_ \- Do you want to get in trouble?


	9. Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lance is pining over a pretty boy."

Lance was incredibly warm. The night wore on and he stayed relaxed in the warm spot he’d created on his chair. At some point more chairs had appeared around the fire, so his was pushed up right against Keith’s, now. It made it easier to talk to him without his nosy siblings overhearing.

Towards the end of the evening, Lance felt so content that he would have fallen asleep had he not had a friend over. At least Keith looked rather content, too. His pale cheeks had a faint, permanent flush to them and his eyes were dark and hooded with relaxation. He’d enjoyed the food and eventually gotten (mostly) used to the teasing nature of Lance’s siblings, though they hadn’t made any insinuating comments after Lance glared at them for a solid three minutes.

“I should probably start heading home,” Keith eventually said, stretching his arms high above his head. The motion exposed a small strip of skin beneath the hem of his shirt that Lance’s eyes were strangely drawn to. “I don’t want to be too tired when I drive.”

Lance nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s true. Want to start walking back now?”

“Y-you don’t need to…”

Lance shook his head. “It’s alright, I’ll walk you back to your car. It’s pretty dark, anyway.”

Keith hesitated for a moment, but nodded. “Alright.”

As they prepared to leave, first by farewelling Lance’s numerous siblings, Lance’s mother came to find them. “You’re going home now, Lance?” She asked.

“Yeah, it’s getting kind of late,” he said. “I’ll walk Keith back to his car.”

His mother nodded her approval. “Good, good,” she said. “Wait here for one moment, I prepared some food for your friend.”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to…” Keith said, startled.

“Nonsense,” she waved a hand. “You wait just here. We always have way too much food anyway.”

“Are you sure that’s alright?” Keith asked Lance as they both watched his mother stalk back into the kitchen.

Lance held up his hands. “Hey, if you want to argue with her, go ahead, but there’s no way you’ll change her mind when she gets like this. I’m not entering that minefield.”

Keith looked endlessly flustered as Lance’s mother came back with a bag of sealed Tupperware containers. “That’s too much,” he started, his hands uselessly twitching by his side. “I don’t want to impede…”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Lance’s mother said. She shoved the bag into Lance’s arms. “Here, Lance, you carry this. Thank you for coming tonight Keith, I do hope you enjoyed yourself. Make sure you get home alright.”

“T-thank you for inviting me,” Keith managed to stutter out before she was ushering them away.

“Call me when you are home, Lance!” She reminded him. “Don’t make me come after you.”

 _“Sí, Mamá,”_ he called over his shoulder. “I will!”

“She’s… fierce,” Keith mumbled as they exited through the back gate. “I can carry that if you want?”

“Nah, it’s alright,” Lance shook his head. He didn’t mind carrying the bag. “Oh look, there’s empanadas in there. She must like you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Lance grinned. “She wouldn’t have given you so much, otherwise. The first time she met Pidge she only gave Pidge one container.”

Keith cracked a small smile. He’d stuffed his hands back in his pockets to fight off the chill of the evening air. “Thanks for inviting me,” he said quietly. He wasn’t looking Lance in the eyes, but it was a bashful gesture, and not an apprehensive one. Strands of hair fell across his face, dislodged by the careful breeze, and Lance was suddenly struck by the urge to brush them back. 

“It’s no problem,” he said instead, just as shy. “Thanks for coming.”

 

The next evening, Lance was busy washing dishes leftover from afternoon tea when his mother came to help him. 

“Do you like that boy?” She causally asked him.

Lance spluttered and almost dropped the wet plate in his hands. “W-why do you ask?” He coughed, face burning.

She just grinned at him. Everyone said that she was where he got his smile from and boy did he start to understand why some people called it a _shit-eating grin._ “He’s a nice boy!” She said, shrugging a delicate shoulder. _“Keith es guapo.”_

Lance made a pitiful, groaning noise. _“Es guapo,”_ he agreed. “Why does he have to be so pretty? I swear I didn’t think like this before.”

She laughed, and took the plate from his hands to set it aside before wrapping her arms around his waist. Lance couldn’t quite remember when he’d grown taller than her, but it was kind of nice to be able to fit his _Mamá_ into his arms. The scent of her shampoo – the one she’d always, always used – was very comforting. “It’s okay, Lance,” she said, patting his back. “Some boys are just very pretty, hmm?”

He groaned.

A second pair of arms wrapped around him. “What are we hugging for?”

“Dad!” Lance complained, squirming. Sure, he’d outgrown his mother, but his father was still bigger than him in all possible ways. His father was by no means a small man, with broad shoulders and a tall stance and a lot of chub (though no one talked about that because it made him sad and a sad _papá_ was worse than all the sad puppies in the world). 

“Lance is pining over a pretty boy,” his _Mamá_ said. “The poor thing can’t even cook eggs so Lance has been taking care of him.”

“Aw,” his father cooed. He could fit his arms around both Lance and his mother and did so readily, hugging them tight. “My little boy is growing up.”

“Stop!” Lance complained. “You guys are so embarrassing.”

“Yeah, this is a _Mamá_ only hug, I got here first,” she huffed teasingly. “I think Lance has it all under control, and Keith seems to like him, too.”

Lance perked up at the sound of that. “You think?”

His mother just laughed at him, and tightened her arms. Lance swore she would break one of his ribs with her hugs one day. His father just laughed at the action, and dropped a kiss onto Lance’s forehead, despite the way he groaned about it.

“Keith is the one who came to dinner, right? He seems nice,” he said with a smile, before turning to leave. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

Lance sighed. Okay, even if his mother’s hugs were quite constricting, they were still good. He relaxed into it without any complaints, even though he tried to wipe his forehead in his mother’s hair, just for effect. “He is pretty, huh?” Lance sighed.

His mother hummed. “Yes, and very polite too. You should invite him over more often.”

“Okay.”

“Will you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Keith es guapo_ \- Keith is handsome  
>  _Es guapo_ \- He is handsome


	10. Ducks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why are there always ducks in your store?"

“Out, _out!_ You ridiculous ducks, get back to your pond already!” Lance cried, flapping his hands frantically. The ducks squawked so loudly that Lance feared the people living in apartments down the street would hear them. “Can’t you just eat fish or bugs or whatever normal ducks eat? What’s so difficult about that, huh?”

“Why are there always ducks in your store?”

Lance huffed, and placed his hands on his hips. “They’re not just ducks, they’re bread-stealing _fiends,”_ he corrected Keith, sniffing. “If they steal any inventory, it comes out of my pay, you know. And they only go for the fancy bread. They’re devious.”

“They’re _ducks.”_

A small bout of laughter bubbled up from his chest. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Lance said, waving his hand dismissively with a small, amused sigh. “How can I help you this morning? You’re up early. You’re the first person in today.”

Keith suddenly looked flushed, though maybe it was a trick of the warm, morning light. “I’m running out of milk,” he said. “I thought I’d come down and get some.”

Lance grinned. “Sure! That’s what I’m here for.”

Keith followed him in through the front door, glancing around as curiously as he had the first time he entered the store, though without the helpless look on his face this time. “You’re up early too,” he remarked. “Don’t you get tired?”

“Yeah, but work is work,” Lance shrugged a shoulder and observed the refrigerators before pulling out the same brand of milk he remembered Keith buying last time. “Just this?”

“And eggs.”

His grin widened. “You’re getting the hang of them,” he said. “I’m so proud.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Uhuh,” he hummed. He looked amused, though he didn’t say anything about Lance’s overdramatic antics. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“Yeah,” Lance nodded. He obediently carried Keith’s purchases to the register to ring them up before carefully placing them in a paper bag. The dinner he’d invited Keith to had been two nights ago, and subsequently the start of the week had once again arrived. “Did you?”

It had become a question they asked easily, now. Lance had felt awkward when first asking after Keith’s wellbeing like that, but it was nice to hear about. He’d found that Keith was quite honest with his feelings, even without realising so – if he was hungry or tired or bored, he would willingly tell Lance.

“I did,” Keith answered. “I reheated more leftovers for dinner.”

Lance laughed to himself quietly. Keith was running low on groceries now, though it wasn’t shopping day just yet. He’d been periodically eating leftovers from the dinner since Saturday. He seemed to like them well enough, so Lance didn’t complain. “Have you gotten the hang of the microwave yet?”

Keith scowled.

Lance only grinned again. Keith had trouble deciding how much to heat everything up for – the first time, the food had a cold patch right in the centre. The second time, he’d somehow managed to cook the food so much that everything had gone disgustingly soggy. Lance was sure Keith had used a microwave before (even though he dreaded to think it might be because of microwaveable meals) but he hadn’t ever had to use one like this.

It was kind of cute.

“Make sure to refrigerate this as soon as you get home,” Lance reminded Keith cheerfully as he handed him the bag. “Don’t let it get warm.”

“I know, I know,” Keith said, frowning in embarrassment. “It’s only eggs and milk.

Lance laughed. “Yeah, yeah, well off you go.”

Keith nodded. “I’ll text you later?”

“Sure.”

He watched Keith leave with a smile on his face. It was easy to get along with Keith now. He thought that maybe the pressure of school – and of becoming the Garrison’s star pilot flyer – had what had caused the whole rivalry ordeal. They really hadn’t gotten along, back then. It felt different, now. Better.

“What are you smiling over?”

Lance yelped as Hunk peeked his head into the shop. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He complained, leaning over the register to stare at his childhood friend. “I swear, I’m going to buy you a cat collar.”

“Was that Keith I just saw exiting the store?” Hunk asked as he walked in. He was wearing his work apron still, and had a tiny, wrapped parcel held in his hands. He often brought Lance sweet treats like that, though Lance insisted he didn’t need to. Hunk was just the kind of person to spoil people like that – he did if for Pidge, too, though Pidge groaned and complained about it a lot more than Lance did.

“Yeah, it was,” Lance said, frowning at Hunk as if to say so _what?_

“I’m glad to see you two are getting along,” Hunk laughed. “I told you that you’d get along well, didn’t I?”

Lance huffed. 

Hunk only smiled. He had a nice, friendly smile, one that Lance would never be able to stay mad at. “I brought you food,” Hunk said, offering Lance the box he carried. “There are two cupcakes in there.”

“Two?” Lance asked, tilting his head to the side as he accepted the gift. “Want to share?”

“It’s for you and Keith!” Hunk said, laughing. “Oh, don’t give me that look. Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.”

_“Hunk!”_

“Hey, I’m just being a good friend,” Hunk raised his hands sheepishly, looking as innocent as a guilty, but happy, man possibly could. “Just invite yourself over for tea or something, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Besides, Keith likes cupcakes. He’ll say yes.”

Lance found himself nodding before he quite realised what he was doing. Tea and cupcakes sounded nice. Tea and cupcakes with Keith sounded even better. Maybe he’d text Keith later that day and see if he wanted to meet up in the afternoon, or something. Yeah, he could do that.

“Thanks, man- wait, how do you know that Keith likes cupcakes? I didn’t know that. Hunk? _Hunk?”_


	11. Cupcakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I used to get them from the café every now and then."

During his lunch break, Lance texted Keith about the cupcakes. He got a response almost instantly, which was surprising. He hadn’t expected Keith to reply to him so fast, but it made him feel a little less desperate when he sent a message back just as quickly. 

It was decided quite easily that Lance would bring himself – and the cupcakes, of course – over that afternoon after he’d finished his shift at work. He could walk there with no trouble, but he couldn’t walk home, so Keith had offered to drive him. After everything had been sorted, Lance couldn’t wait until the end of his shift. 

By the time it did come, he’d worked himself up into a weird state of nervous excitement. He liked hanging out with Keith, he knew that, but there was something more to it. Something that made his stomach coil itself into knots. It was good, he thought, but nerve-wracking nevertheless. Still, it wasn’t like he’d bail on Keith and the cupcakes. He liked spending time with Keith far too much to give it up. 

He carefully packed away the bakery box into a wicker basket he borrowed from the store along with a fresh punnet of strawberries and a box of sweet tea he’d bought for the occasion. He thought Keith might appreciate the fresh fruit, too. He made sure to choose one of the nicer ones.

The walk to Keith’s house wasn’t too bad. He didn’t live that far away, but it was still a decent walk. Lance had started fantasising about the comfortable, if somewhat stiff couch in Keith’s lounge room by the time he finally knocked on Keith’s front door. 

“Hey,” Keith said, voice soft and gentle as he peered at Lance with those pretty dark eyes of his. He was wearing casual clothes, and had his hair tied up in a loose ponytail. “Come in.”

Lance did so, offering Keith a nervous but easy smile. “Hey,” he greeted, before holding up the wicker basket. “I brought the cupcakes.”

Keith nodded, eyeing the basket with interest. “What kind are they?”

Lance shrugged. “You know, I didn’t actually check. Hunk brought them in earlier and said I should share,” he chuckled. “You like them, right?”

Keith flushed, but nodded again. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I used to get them from the café every now and then. I really like them.”

 _Okay, that’s cute. Like, really cute. Damn him._ That also explained how Hunk knew Keith liked cupcakes, which Lance was somehow relieved to hear. “Well, how about we make tea and find out, huh? I’m starving.”

“I can make tea,” Keith said.

Lance raised his eyebrows. He hardly believed it, though he didn’t question Keith. Tea was foolproof, anyway. Nearly impossible to mess up. “Alright,” he said, before reaching into the basket. “Here, use these teabags. I think you’ll like the flavour.”

Keith took the box and turned towards the kitchen. “You can sit in the lounge room if you want,” he said. “You know where it is, right?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Keith’s house was very different to Lance’s, and not only because it was a little bit smaller. The furniture felt newer and hadn’t been worn in, and the couches were lacking more than the standard decorations – though he didn’t know if plain coloured pillows counted as decorations, per say. Still, the couches were comfortable, and he sunk into one without problem. 

While he waited for Keith to bring the tea, he pulled the box of cupcakes closer and delicately pulled it open. The two cupcakes greeted him with the smell of sweet sugar and icing. One cupcake was decorated purely in red, and the other was much the same, though completely dressed in blue. They were both flavours that Lance recognised. 

“Looks like there’s a red velvet one and a blueberry one,” Lance said as Keith came into the room carrying two plain, white mugs. 

“Blueberry is my favourite,” Keith said.

Lance couldn’t help but laugh. “Red velvet is mine! I always pegged you as more of a red person.”

“I thought you preferred blue.”

“I do.”

Keith laughed a little, too. “Well, cupcakes are different,” he said. “They’re an exception.”

Lance took his mug when Keith offered it. The tea looked like it had been brewed perfectly fine and it smelt wonderfully sweet, which was exactly how it was meant to be. “Thanks,” he said before taking a small sip. It was hot, expectedly, and something definitely didn’t taste right, but Keith was giving him such a hopeful look that he only smiled. “It’s good!”

Keith smiled into his own tea. He looked so proud of himself that Lance knew somewhat bitter tea was worth drinking if he could see that look on Keith more often. Keith didn’t say anything as he reached into the little box to pluck out his blueberry cupcake. Following his lead, Lance happily for his own, glad to finally have something to eat.

 

It was getting dark as Lance and Keith finished off their tea and the punnet of strawberries Lance had brought. As per usual, Lance’s red velvet cupcake was delicious. Keith seemed to enjoy his one too, if the bright look in his eyes was anything to go by. Lance wondered why Keith didn’t buy cupcakes more often, especially if he enjoyed them so much. He didn’t ask about that though, the same way he didn’t ask about why Keith suddenly started shopping at the 99¢ store.

Only when Lance started yawning did Keith offer to drive him home. Keith’s car was sleek and warm and Lance almost wanted to fall asleep in the seat, but he didn’t. Thankfully, Keith drove very smoothly, and Lance was completely at ease as he chatted away. 

Eventually, Keith pulled into his driveway to drop Lance off as close to his front door as he could. “Thank you for coming over,” Keith said.

“No problem!” Lance replied. “You sure you’ll be alright for dinner? I could have made you something while I was there.”

“I’ll be alright,” Keith said. “Lance?”

Lance turned to face him. “Yeah-?”

Keith was closer than expected, much, much closer. 

Close enough to kiss.


	12. Stare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance could only stare, struck in awed silence.

Keith’s lips were so, so soft that for a moment Lance didn’t feel them. But then they were there, pressing insistently but gently at the corner of his mouth, cold like the night time air but warm with blood risen from nervous biting. Lance felt like something had snagged around his chest, leading him in close the same way a moth flickers towards a flame. 

But it was over after a single, lingering moment more, and then Lance was left chasing after warm puffs of air that were not his own. His eyelashes fluttered, eyes seeking out the gaze he expected to find, but Keith was staring straight ahead. His hands in those silly fingerless gloves he always wore were clutching the steering wheel, and his face was set in embarrassed, red-cheeked determination. Lance could only stare, struck in awed silence.

“I-I’ll text you later,” Keith said. His eyes flickered to Lance once before returning to the road. His face was noticeably redder.

It took Lance a moment to reply as he blindly fumbled for the door handle. “Y-yeah,” he croaked. “Right, yeah. Do that.”

He scrambled out of the car on wobbly legs (the type of legs his brothers would have labelled him as _Bambi_ for having) as somehow made his way up to his front door. Keith didn’t drive away until Lance had given him a tentative wave over his shoulder. He flashed his car lights once, a sign of acknowledgement, before he was gone. 

Lance went in, feeling boneless, and leaned back against the door as he closed it. Instinctively, he lifted his fingers to touch his lips. They didn’t tingle or anything like that, but he felt like his breath had been stolen away from him. It hadn’t even been a proper kiss, but he still remembered every second of it. Keith’s lips had felt like he’d been biting them… Had he been biting them the entire drive back? It felt like it. 

Lance wanted to feel more.

 

“Anahi!”

“What is it, Lance?” Anahi asked, her voice rough with sleep. It was her morning to do breakfast, and she was always sleepy when she did it. Not a fan of sunrises, but a fan of sunsets.

Lance shuffled into the kitchen, his blue lion slippers scuffing along the cold floor. “I need your advice,” he said.

Anahi eyed him contemplatively. Her hair was a bird’s nest, painstakingly pulled back into a braid in an attempt to tame it, and her skin was still somewhat pale with sleep. “On what?” She asked, sounding curious. It wasn’t often that anyone willingly rose at the time one needed to when in charge of making breakfast, after all.

“So, I kind of like Keith-”

She snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Lance scowled at her. “Yeah, well, I’ve never had a- a _thing_ like this, so help me,” he said. 

“I’m flattered that you asked me, little brother,” Anahi grinned. She looked so much like their mother that it was uncanny, save for the blue eyes she inherited from their father. 

Lance’s scowl only deepened further. “Luci was my first choice.”

Anahi pouted at him, and with a face so like his _Mamá’s_ Lance knew he wouldn’t be able to feign anger at her for long. “I was so your first choice,” she said.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, anyway. Bestow upon me your relationship advice, please.”

She laughed, and turned back to the stove. “Fine, but you have to help me with breakfast.”

“Why are you making French toast? We’re Spanish.”

 _“Diversity,_ Lance. Seriously, start chopping up bananas.”

After pulling out a wooden chopping board from under the bench, Lance did so. Anahi was dipping bread into a sweet-smelling mixture of some sort before dumping them in a frying pan, and soon enough the scent of breakfast began to fill the kitchen. It made Lance hungry.

“You should tell him if you like him,” Anahi eventually said. “Has he said he likes you?”

Lance flushed as he thought back to the shy kiss Keith had given him. His heart raced just at the thought of it. “I’m pretty sure he does,” he mumbled.

Anahi shot him an amused look. “Alright,” she said, “then why don’t you ask him out on a date? I don’t think he’d say no.”

“You think?”

She nodded in confirmation. 

“But what would I say?”

“Just ask him over for dinner again, or something,” she said. “Go see a movie, or have lunch somewhere. We’re having dinner here this Saturday, aren’t we? Bring him.”

Lance nodded. When Anahi said things like that, it always seemed to make more sense. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do that. He’ll come, won’t he?”

“Sure he will, we’re great fun!”

Lance only laughed. “Okay, we are.”

 

Even though Lance was completely embarrassed over what had happened, it was an excited sort of embarrassment, and it hadn’t really affected the amount that he texted Keith. He still got regular updates on Keith’s adventures in the kitchen, even if he was just making cereal. It was doing ridiculous things to Lance’s heart.

He invited Keith over for dinner again Saturday, and made sure to mention that it was at his house so Keith could come earlier, if he wanted to. He said he would.

Lance was excited to know he would be able to spend time with Keith again. He’d enjoyed the last dinner Keith attended, even if his siblings went a little crazy over the fact that Lance had brought a friend (who wasn’t Hunk or Pidge) over. He would make sure to help his mother with the cooking this time so that he could show off a little more. Thinking about it made him grin.

One night, before Lance went to sleep, he got a message from Keith. He was tucked away in bed when his phone beeped. It wasn’t so strange – Keith messaged him at all times of the day and didn’t seem to spare much thought about the clock, though Lance didn’t mind. 

_Hey, about the other night. I’m sorry._

It was a weird message, but Lance was pretty sure he knew where it was coming from. _Don’t be,_ he replied. 

_You sure?_

_Yeah,_ Lance wrote. After a moment, he added, _you can do it again,_ and then after another moment, _if you want._

He waited with his hands clapped over his face as if it could hide his complete and utter embarrassment. He couldn’t believe he’d written that, but yeah he could, it seemed like something stupid enough for him to do. Soon enough, however, his phone buzzed again.

_Okay._

The little smiling emoji was back.


	13. Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is that you?"

Lance cleaned his room. Like, completely. He even dusted his ceiling fan and the window sills. His siblings thought he was crazy and his mother thought he might have eaten something bad but his father definitely understood. 

“Just a bit of spring cleaning,” he’d joked as he helped Lance squeeze his closet doors shut. “Got to impress, right?”

Lance had flushed, but that hadn’t stopped him from cleaning. There was no promise that Keith would even enter his room, but _just in case_ he happened to, Lance didn’t want him to be repulsed by the mess. And sure, he didn’t have that much mess – mostly clothes he hadn’t put away and empty water bottles everywhere – but still. It had to be perfect.

He started helping his _Mamá_ with the cooking after he’d cleaned his room and showered. She had him wear an apron and push his hair back with a blue bandana and then they were off, frantically cooking enough food for an entire army of family members to eat. Of course, Lance knew they’d end up with too much anyway because each family brought food over as well, but that didn’t really matter.

It was chaotic, and it was kind of stressful, but he loved it. This was his family and this was what they did.

By the time he was satisfied with what he had done, it wouldn’t be long until Keith arrived. He was coming over an hour before the family was due, which Lance thought was enough time for him to get used to Lance’s siblings again. In the meantime, Lance changed into nicer clothes and fixed his hair. It looked like Anahi’s did in the morning after wearing that bandana while cooking, but Lance tamed it. Eventually. 

When there was finally a knock on the door, Lance wasn’t the first to answer it, regrettably. Instead it was Tomas and Val that pulled it open, twin mischievous grins aimed up at whoever happened to be there – and of course it was Keith, who else would it be? Lance could already hear Tomas chatting up a storm as he rushed down the stairs. 

“Tomas, what are you doing?” Lance squinted down at his little brother, placing a hand on his head to steer him away from the door. “Stop pestering my friend.”

Tomas pouted up at him. “Why do you get to play with him and we don’t?” He whined.

Lance scowled. “Fine, you take Keith, and I’ll take Val. How’s that?”

“No!” Tomas gaped at him, instinctively latching onto his brother’s arm. “Lance, you’re mean!”

Lance stuck his tongue out. 

Keith was standing just outside the front door looking decidedly flustered. “H-hey,” he said. “That was Val and Tomas, right?”

“Yeah, sorry about them,” he said, nodding, as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Come in. What were they saying?”

Keith’s red cheeks darkened, just a little. “They just asked me if I was _Lance’s pretty boy.”_

Was it possible to die from embarrassment? Because Lance was surely on death’s door, if so, and he’d never regretted his siblings opening the door without him before. _“Dios mio,_ I’m sorry about them, they’re absolute vultures, I swear,” he said, flushing bright red. “Don’t mind anything they say.”

Keith nodded, and stepped inside. “Alright,” he said. He glanced around Lance’s house curiously, his eyes drifting along the photo frames they had hanging on the wall. “Is that you?”

“That’s Emilio,” Lance chuckled. He grabbed Keith by the elbow and led him a little further down the hallway where there were more photos hanging. “That’s me when I was a baby.”

Keith’s eyes widened. “You were a cute baby,” he said.

Lance snorted. “I’m still cute now!” He said teasingly. “Though I _guess_ Luci is probably cuter.”

Keith chuckled, looking rather amused. He gestured to another one of the photos. “You all look very similar, I can’t quite tell you apart just yet. Who’s in this one?”

Lance grinned, and launched into his explanation.

 

After Keith had arrived, Lance’s family members become like nosy mice, peeking their ears in on Lance’s conversations with Keith whenever they could. Lance eventually shuffled Keith up into the safety of his room, shooting squinted glares over his shoulder as he did. At least he’d cleaned his room, he thought.

“Your family is nice,” Keith said. He looked around at Lance’s room distractedly, the same way he’d looked at every corner and every inch of Lance’s home when Lance had shown him around. “I like your house, too.”

“Thanks,” Lance said, laughing quietly. “They can be a bit over the top, sometimes.”

Keith smiled faintly. “It’s nice.”

Lance was struck with the thought that his family must be very different from Keith’s. There hadn’t been photographs on the walls in Keith’s house, not like there were in Lance’s home. It had hardly seemed like anyone other than Keith lived there, if he were being honest. He’d never been the type to decorate rooms, but he really wanted to make Keith’s house feel a little warmer. Maybe Keith wouldn’t look at Lance’s family photos so longingly if he had some of his own. 

“What time is everyone coming over again?” Keith asked as he took a tentative seat on the edge of Lance’s bed.

Lance threw himself down beside Keith. “About half an hour,” he said. “You hungry?”

“A little.”

Anahi had said Lance should ask Keith out on a date. He knew he wanted to. Would now be a good time to bring it up? What if Keith said no? He would be stuck with Keith for the rest of the evening, and who knew what his siblings would get up to? But Anahi said that Keith wouldn’t say no, and she was usually right about those kind of things. All he had to do was talk.

“Hey, Keith-”

“Hey, Lance-”

Lance flushed. “Y-you first,” he said.

Keith shook his head. “No, you go.”

“Alright,” Lance said as he sat up. He licked his lips nervously. “Do you- do you want to go out sometime? Like as a date. On a date.”

Keith’s face flooded with red. “I-”

“We could go see a movie, or something,” Lance rushed to say. He was so embarrassed that now he couldn’t stop talking and if he could slap himself, he would have. “Or, or go have lunch somewhere…”

Keith fidgeted, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “I-I can’t.”


	14. Polly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polly was the quietest of his siblings, Lance thought.

“You can’t?” Lance repeated. The words felt foreign in his mouth, as though he hadn’t been the one to actually say them. It was like the air had been punched out of him.

Keith cringed. He looked incredibly distraught, and bit his lip harshly enough for it to swell a little. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he rushed to say. His fingers wrapped around Lance’s arms without either of them really realising it, his grip bruising. “It’s just, I- I can’t,” he finished, eyes downcast. 

Lance’s heart thudded. He’d never seen Keith this upset, not even when Lance had beat his flight scores back when they were in the Garrison (Lance had gotten pretty upset with Keith had beaten his, them being rivals and all). He hadn’t wanted to make Keith upset at all, so he forced a smile on his face, the same smile he used to assure his littlest siblings that the thunder couldn’t get them and that _Mamá_ would come home to them at the end of the day. “Hey, it’s alright,” he said. “Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

He didn’t, but that didn’t matter. As long as Keith didn’t beat himself up over it Lance would be fine. Thinking that Keith was upset hurt more than being rejected. 

Keith’s eyes flittered up to his. Those eyes of his almost looked violet in colour as they implored Lance to understand. “You sure?” He asked, voice wobbly. 

Lance nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, mullet-boy.”

Keith gave him a weak smile, and flopped down on Lance’s bed in a rather dramatic fashion. His hair was strewn across the bedsheets and he looked suspiciously comfortable. He didn’t say anything, so Lance cautiously lowered himself down to join him. He wanted to know why Keith said no because he felt like he was missing something terribly important, but he didn’t bring it up. 

As he settled, Keith inched closer. The mattress dipped under his weight before he was tentatively pressing against Lance’s side, his fingers skirting down Lance’s arm, feather-light. He didn’t do anything; he only laid there, but somehow it reassured Lance. Keith must like him if he wants to lay like that, right? Even if he doesn’t want to go on a date with Lance.

_How does that even make sense?_

It didn’t, that’s how. Lance swore that Keith had to be the most confusing person on the planet, but he was being cute, so Lance could forgive him. This time. Okay, probably next time too. But the time Keith _wasn’t_ being cute, then Lance wouldn’t forgive him!

_Dios mio, I’m doomed._

 

Eventually Lance could hear the family begin to arrive. Someone turned music on out the back, and the sound of car wheels crunching over gravel pushed through the closed windows in his room. Familiar sounds, yes, but made different because Keith was hearing them, too. 

“Come on, get up,” Lance said as he stretched his arms up above his head. He’d relaxed with Keith on his bed the entire time they were up in his room, and although he was loathe to leave, he did want to spend time with his family, too.

“Your bed is comfortable,” Keith muttered. His cheek was still pressed against the sheets and he looked a little sleepy. 

Lance laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Now get up. I want to get a good spot by the bonfire again.”

“Your family has fires too?” Keith asked, perking up. He stretched out like a giant-ass cat, exposing a strip of his stomach that Lance only glared at, before standing. The whole ruffled-and-dishevelled bed-head look shouldn’t have been so good on him.

“Yeah, we have two of them,” Lance said. “There’s room in our backyard for them.”

“Lead the way, then.”

Lance did so. The sun was starting to set outside and the smell of food had already permeated the air. His cousins and aunts were starting to fill the spaces in his house, soon joined by uncles and close family friends. He loved Saturday nights.

There were seats free by the fire – it had only just been cooked up, so his family members were more interested in food for the moment – and Lance took the chance to claim it for his own. Well, his and Keith’s own. They settled on the cushioned chairs and observed the fire with light eyes. “How hungry are you?” Lance asked. “I can get you food now, if you want.”

Keith shook his head. “It’s alright, I’ll eat when everyone else does.”

Lance chuckled. “Alright. Do you want a drink, at least?”

Keith thought for a moment, before nodding.

“I’ll be right back, then.”

He was pretty sure he knew what Keith liked to drink, and got him a glass of juice fresh and cold from the fridge. He was in the midst of getting one for himself, too, when a little hand suddenly tugged on the hem of his shirt. “Hmm? Polly?”

Lance’s youngest sister stared back up at him with nervous brown eyes. She had their mother’s eyes, but Polly’s were far wider, and far more fretful. She had some of Adora’s little plastic butterfly clips in her hair, though Lance assumed it wasn’t Polly’s idea to wear them.

“What’s up?” He asked, crouching down beside her. “You thirsty?”

She nodded. 

“Juice alright?”

Another nod.

Polly was the quietest of his siblings, Lance thought. Most of them were really confident and extroverted, but Polly and perhaps Val were the most introverted. Polly in particular didn’t enjoy being around so many people for such a long time, and usually stayed inside to read her books or find a smaller group to sit with – as it was, she was holding a book in her hands, now. She was a smart girl.

“Here you go,” he said as he handed her a plastic cup with a twist on lid full of juice. “This alright?”

She nodded again, and as he began to turn away, reached for his shirt. “Who’s your friend?” She asked quietly. Her pronunciation was a little off, but it was irresistibly cute. 

“Oh, you mean Keith?” He asked, surprised. “You wanna meet him?”

She shrunk into her shoulders, looking nervous. “Is he mean?” She whispered.

Lance laughed quietly. “No.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She hesitated for one more second, before nodding. “Okay.”

With a feigned groan, Lance swooped her up into his arms. “Alright then, how about you hold Keith’s drink for him, yeah? He’ll appreciate it.”

She nodded, and carefully took the glass from his hands to hold in hers. Lance used his free hand to carry his own drink after propping Polly on his hip before heading back outside. 

Keith glanced up at him curiously as he walked back over. Lance took a seat back down on his chair, carefully holding Polly in his lap. She’d shrunk back into her shoulders, her face half hidden in Lance’s neck as she observed Keith with hesitant eyes. Lance gave her an encouraging nudge.

After a second, Polly tentatively uncurled. She leaned across Lance’s arm to shakily hold out Keith’s drink. 

Keith took it with a gentle smile. “Thank you.”

Polly blinked at him owlishly, and hid a bashful look in Lance’s shoulder again. She peeked at Keith like he was a toy she wanted to play with, but Lance knew she was far too shy to talk to him.

Lance jostled her around again so that she couldn’t hide in his neck anymore. “Why don’t you show him your book?” He suggested quietly, giving her a pointed look.

Polly glanced at her book. She gave Lance a look, before timidly showing the cover to Keith. 

Placating, Keith leaned forwards to look at it, and his eyebrows went up. “That’s a very advanced book,” he said. “Can you read that?”

She flushed, and nodded.

Keith gave her another gentle smile. “Wow, that’s very impressive.”

Polly’s expression opened up a little, which made Lance smile. When there was a call of his name from the house, he gently set her down on his chair. “I’ll be back in a second, alright?”

It was Anahi that had called him. She was standing in the kitchen, holding plates that were soon to go on the serving table set up on the porch. “How did it go?” She asked him, her eyes alight with curiousness. “You asked him out, right?”

Lance scowled, glancing away. That sinking feeling came back to his stomach. He’d forgotten it, for a moment, but now Keith’s rejection was back. He just didn’t understand it.

Anahi’s face fell. “What happened?”

“He said no.”

A pinch appeared in her brow. “What? Why?”

Lance shrugged a shoulder lamely. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it.”

Anahi ruffled her fingers through his hair as she drew him into a one-armed hug. “Don’t worry about it, little brother,” she said. “You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he muttered petulantly. He glanced back at Keith as he sat by the fire. He was leaning towards Polly, listening avidly to what she was explaining about her book. Some part of Lance said that Keith looked like he belonged there, as though he were a fixture in Lance’s family. Lance found himself wishing he kind of was.

If Keith really did like him, then why did he say no?


	15. Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This _friend_ is a different _friend.”_

When Lance returned to his seat by the fire, Keith gave him a strange look. “You alright?” He asked over the top of Polly’s head, voice quiet.

Lance gave him a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Keith gave him another strange look, but didn’t question it. He sunk back into his chair and turned his eyes to Polly, who was tentatively slipping off of Lance’s chair, still clutching her book.

 _“Tienes hambre?”_ Lance asked, giving her a curious look. 

She shook her head. “I’m going to go read,” she said. “I want to come out later, can I?”

“Of course,” Lance said. “Make sure you eat something, though. _Mamá_ will probably have food for you.”

“Okay,” she nodded, looking pleased. “I will.”

“She’s really smart,” Keith said as Polly walked back towards the house. “How old is she again?”

Lance reclined back against his chair. “Three.”

Keith hummed. “What did your sister want? That was Anahi, right?”

Lance flushed. “She’s just being nosy,” he muttered. “Siblings are like that. Don’t mind her.”

Keith leaned back in his chair too, resting his head against the back of it. He was still facing Lance, and it made Lance feel oddly bare. “Have your siblings always been like that?”

A faint smile came to Lance’s face. “Yeah, but I’m like that, too. I’m one of the older ones, so I guess I’m always prying into the business of the younger ones.”

He’d never thought about it that way until Keith had asked, but Lance found that he couldn’t really be upset over Anahi’s interference. He’d asked for it, after all, and there were things about Keith he just didn’t understand yet. He’d told Keith that he did, but he supposed that wasn’t quite true – he didn’t understand Keith’s troubles, but he understood not wanting to share them. There were things about himself that he still didn’t feel comfortable telling Keith.

To fill the silence, Lance told Keith about what he’d cooked. He was adamant that Keith try everything, even if it only was so Lance could show off his skills in the kitchen. It was a good distraction, and soon enough all thoughts about his humiliating attempt at asking Keith out were gone. 

When food was eventually served, Lance waited until the crowd had dispersed a bit before leading Keith to the serving table. Now that Keith had an idea about what there was and what he liked, Lance thought he could make his own plate up. He did look a little nervous and never strayed too far from Lance’s elbow, but it wasn’t like Lance would leave him to flounder. 

With their pates full, Lance took Keith back to their spots around the fire. He was annoyed to see that his siblings had already stolen their chairs, leaving just one free. 

“Looks like we’re sharing,” Keith said, amused, as Lance turned to face him. Lance was going to say that he would sit on the ground, but he closed his mouth and left the words unsaid. 

Lance sat in between the arms of the chair, his legs folded, and Keith sat directly in front of him. Good thing the lawn chairs were big enough for two, even though Lance had absolutely no room to move. In fact, he was pretty sure he would be all but in Keith’s lap if he even so much dared as to stretch out his leg. And if the sly look Emilio and Anahi sent him were any indication, then they had certainly planned this. He sent them a withering look in return.

“So, are you enjoying yourself, Keith?” Anahi asked.

Keith startled at the direct question, but nodded. “Yes. Thank you for having me over.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem,” Emilio waved a hand. “I’m just surprised Lance has a _friend_ like you.”

“Friend like me?” Keith repeated, a confused pinch coming to his brow.

“Emilio!” Lance admonished. “I have friends, jeez.”

“Yes, the nice one and the mean midget, I know,” Emilio waved his hand again. “This _friend_ is a different _friend.”_

“Why are you saying friend so weirdly?” Adora asked, puzzled. She was sharing a seat with Anahi, and unlike with Lance and Keith, both girls actually fit on the chair together. No awkward, teenaged-boy legs anywhere.

“That’s because-” Tomas started, his eyes alight with mischief.

“Tomas!” Lance interrupted. “Seriously, you guys are the worst. You’re the reason we can’t have nice things.”

“Keith is a nice thing,” Anahi pointed out, amused.

Keith flushed. He shot Lance a bewildered look, and damn if he didn’t look twice as pretty as usual in the light of the fire. “A-ah, thank you. I think.”

Anahi grinned widely.

_Siblings._

 

Despite all the endless teasing, Lance came to enjoy the night. It was easy to forget his worries when he was with his siblings like this. Keith was an added bonus. Eventually Polly came out to join them again, somehow managing to worm her way onto Anahi’s lap so that all three sisters were together. 

As much as they teased him, they were his family, and he did still love them. Even if they were pains in the ass. 

Saying goodbye to Keith for the evening was a strange affair. He’d liked all the food Lance had cooked, and had even shyly asked to take any leftovers home. He’d looked so awed when Lance had given him containers of it, even though he’d done the same last time. He guessed it was different because he had been the one to cook.

After he’d finally managed to drag Keith through his sea of relatives, the clingiest of which were his family, he’d finally had a moment alone with Keith. His face was still flushed from the warmth of the fire and he smelt faintly of smoke, but it wasn’t bad.

“Thank you for coming,” Lance said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry about my siblings. They’re kinda… annoying.”

Keith laughed. “They’re not annoying,” he said. “I like them.”

Lance smiled. That made him feel irrationally happy inside, like it was a physical sensation rather than an emotion. He’d felt the same when Hunk and Pidge had all but joined his family, but even then he hadn’t felt quite like this. This – this was _more._ It was good.

And then, without really realising it, he had an armful of Keith. The scent of smoke became stronger and surprisingly soft strands of dark hair tickled his skin and he could just, very faintly, feel the ghost of cool lips across his cheek. He flinched at the touch, his mind diving back into its _he rejected me_ memory. It was over as quick as it had happened, but his skin broke out in chills and all of the little hairs on the back of his neck had risen. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” Keith said. He didn’t meet Lance’s eyes for more than a brief, flickering gaze. “And for the food.”

“It’s no problem,” Lance said. His heart was racing. He felt a little numb, and he didn’t know why.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded.

Keith hesitated, shifted on his feet, then left.

There were so many mixed signals coming from that boy that Lance simply couldn’t make sense of it. He was more confused than ever.

 

His phone woke him in the middle of the night. Disoriented, he fumbled to answer it, cringing as the bright light of its screen pained his eyes. He hadn’t gotten to sleep well, and this wasn’t helping. “Hello?”

“Lance? It’s Keith.”

“Keith?” He repeated, frowning into his pillow.

“Yeah. Did I wake you? Sorry.”

“’S fine. What time is it?” He blearily pulled his phone away to squint at the screen. “It’s three in the morning. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing! Nothing,” Keith said. “It’s just- just…”

Lance huffed. “What? Spit it out already.”

“Go on a date with me tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Tienes hambre?_ \- Are you hungry?
> 
> -
> 
> Posted a little early tonight, for once! I'm going to SMASH in Sydney tomorrow so I want to sleep hehe ^^"


	16. Juice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I brought juice."

Lance frowned despondently as Pidge tossed a cushion at his head. It bounced off once and landed on the floor where it would likely remain for the rest of the day. “I’m being serious here,” he whined.

Pidge huffed. “You’ve been ranting to us for an hour,” he grumbled. He was bent over a game, frantically pressing away at the buttons. How he’d managed to hit Lance with the pillow without looking away was a mystery. 

“That’s because I don’t know what’s going on,” Lance complained. “You’re meant to help me, Pidge.”

“I _did_ help.”

“Telling me to jump him doesn’t count.”

“I told you other things, too.”

“Telling me to ditch him if that doesn’t work also doesn’t count.”

Pidge sent him a withering look. “You _know_ I’m bad at these things. Why ask me?”

Lance pouted. “Well, I trust your judgment,” he said, sniffing. “And because Hunk wasn’t in the room.”

“Lance, you’re an idiot,” Pidge sighed. “Keith obviously likes you, so just go on the date with him. What more is there to it?”

“Because he said no when I asked him,” Lance said. They’d been over this all morning as they lounged around in Hunk’s living room. They had meant to meet up at Pidge’s house, but Pidge’s older brother worked late shifts and didn’t need their chatting to disturb him. “Why would he suddenly change his mind so fast that he just had to call me at three in the morning?”

“Well, it’s like you said,” Hunk interjected gently, “he probably has something important going on that made him say no. I doubt he actually wanted to say not to you, you know. He seems to really like you.”

Lance flushed, and sunk back into the couch. He dragged a hand down his face, and peeked at Hunk. “You think?”

Hunk nodded. “Yeah, definitely. You know how he always comes into the café, right?”

“Yeah.”

“When he realised we were still friends, he asked about you.”

Lance’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Did he?”

“Yeah. I think he’s liked you for a while, Lance.”

He flushed again. If that was true, how had he never noticed it? He’d always considered his relationship with Keith in the Garrison to be nothing more than that of a rivalry. They’d argued and tried to outdo each other at every corner, after all. Had Keith thought it was something more? Just thinking that made Lance wish the floor would open up and swallow him whole to save him from the embarrassment. 

“Did you say you’d go today?” Pidge asked, glancing up as he paused his game.

“I did,” Lance nodded. He’d been so tired last night that he’d said he would go before he really realised what he’d done, but he didn’t regret it. He was glad he’d said yes. “He wants me to go over to his house later this afternoon.”

“I think you should just enjoy yourself,” Hunk said. “I don’t think Keith would have rung you so early in the morning if he didn’t want to be with you. He’s probably just as scared of messing up as you are.”

Like usual, Hunk always knew the right thing to say. He was so gentle and reasonable with his words that Lance wouldn’t help but be relaxed by them. Hunk had always been like that – he’d always been the one they could turn to with their problems, even back when they were in the Garrison. Hunk, Pidge and Lance had all assigned to a squad together, and Lance had even shared a room with Hunk. They’d been close for ages.

Pidge turned back to his game. “You’ll be fine,” he said without looking at Lance. “Just be you.”

It was as much of a compliment as he’d ever get from Pidge, but he appreciated it nevertheless. Pidge had always been a closed off person, the type who expected to be teased or taunted or underestimated right off the bat. Lance had always known Pidge would be extremely resourceful and intelligent – he’d been so excited to have Pidge in his squad, even if Pidge had wanted nothing to do with him. Eventually that had changed, of course, and now he’d come to recognise the small things Pidge gave him.

“It should be fine,” Lance finally said, though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

 

Keith’s house looked like it always did when Lance approached it – only half-lived in. On the outside, it was perfect. The lawns and the painting on the house and the seats on the porch were all neatly arranged and neatly finished. He wondered how Keith would feel if one of those cheesy flamingo ornaments happened to appear in his grass.

When Lance rang the doorbell, Keith answered it almost instantly. He had his hair pulled into a low ponytail, and he was wearing tight-fitting jeans and a slim-fitted shirt with long sleeves. His feet were bare. “Hey,” he said. His cheeks were already noticeably red. “Come in.”

Lance edged inside. He’d dressed nicely, too – a similar pair of pants and a short-sleeved button down. He was wearing shoes, though he took them off to keep Keith’s floors clean. “I brought juice,” he said, lifting the bag in his hands. He hadn’t known what to bring, though he felt like something was required, so juice it was. At least it was fancy juice, in a nice bottle and everything.

Keith offered him a bashful smile. “Thanks,” he said, taking the bag. “I’ll put it in the fridge now.”

Lance aimlessly followed him into the kitchen. He wondered what Keith had in mind for the evening; he hadn’t ever thought to ask, and he hadn’t wanted to think himself into a nervous meltdown. It was easier just to follow along with anything Keith said, and for now that meant migrating to the kitchen. At least he got to see piles of leftovers from his own house stocked in Keith’s fridge, which made him feel a little better.

Still, he was curious.

“So what do you have in mind for the evening?”

Keith gave him a nervous look over his shoulder as he put the juice in the fridge and set the bag aside. His cheeks were still red. “I thought I’d cook you dinner.”


	17. Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They really did appear to be the loveliest shade of violet when he got that look.

Lance gave Keith a surprised look. “You want to cook?” He asked. He’d thought they might go out or what a movie or something. Order food in, maybe. Not cook.

But Keith just wrung his fingers nervously, and nodded. “I googled recipes and everything. I swear I can.”

Lance’s heart jumped. _Okay, that’s really cute. What the hell._ “Alright,” Lance said, grinning. “The student has become the master.”

Keith snorted. “You only taught me how to cook eggs.”

“And how to reheat leftovers! I practically raised you.”

That got him a small laugh, so he counted it as a victory. It wasn’t often that he got to see Keith laugh or smile, though he supposed it had been happening more frequently as of late. If nothing, at least it made Keith seem to relax a little. 

Lance took a seat on one of the stools by the kitchen bench as he watched Keith pull out pots and utensils. He didn’t know what Keith was going to make, but he did see Keith sneakily pull a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. It was clearly covered in writing and he carefully smoothed it down, his fingers working the wrinkles out of the paper with care and attention. He’d even painstakingly hand-written out the recipe. 

“How was your day?” Lance asked.

“Alright,” Keith said. He was fiddling with things in the pantry now, and pulled them out in a way that meant Lance couldn’t see what it was. “I went to the grocery store.”

“My one?”

“Yeah. Someone else was working there, though.”

Lance nodded. He didn’t work on Sunday’s, but his co-workers were nice. If Coran – the store manager – was behind the register, then maybe that was a different story. Coran was nice, of course, but he was like that one weird uncle everyone has. He was eccentric.

“How was yours?”

“Good, spent it with Hunk and Pidge,” Lance said, resting his elbows on the benchtop. “They’re my friends from the Garrison.”

Keith nodded. “Yeah, I remember them. Hunk works at the café.”

“Yeah, he’s the one who gave me those cupcakes,” Lance chuckled. “He’s a good guy.”

Keith nodded again. “He’s the one that told me to go to your store,” he admitted. “We bumped into each other in the other grocery store. The big one a couple of streets over.”

Lance raised his brows at Keith. “What made you decide to change stores?”

A weird stiffness fluttered through Keith’s shoulders, but he seemed to force it back. He didn’t turned to face Lance as he talked. “You know how my parents work overseas right?”

“Both of them?”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “They’re not home that often, so they usually just buy groceries when they are or get someone else to do it for me.”

Lance hummed. That sounded really cold, but he didn’t say so.

“After I got kicked out of the Garrison,” Keith began again as he turned to the fridge to dig something else out of it. He hesitated for another moment, but the tension eventually began to drain from his shoulders. “After I got kicked out of the Garrison, they kind of stopped. I mean, I work, but it’s not really enough to cover all the household bills _and_ the groceries.”

Lance’s heart fell into the pit of his stomach. “Is that why you came to the 99¢ store? Because it’s cheaper?”

Keith nodded. He looked upset with himself, like it was some sort of defeat to admit that he needed help. No wonder he’d been so lost. He’d never had to take care of himself like this.

“How did you get along before?” Lance asked. “It’s been a while since we were in the Garrison.”

Keith shrugged a slender shoulder. “Microwaveable meals?”

Lance’s face fell as his nose scrunched up. Just the thought of Keith having to eat those things made his chest feel tight. “Oh my God, you poor thing! Those monstrosities are disgusting. I swear Keith, you have to promise me you’ll never eat another one again. I’ll cook for you all you need if you get hungry.”

Keith chuckled. “Hunk said you would tell me that. He’s the one that sent me to the grocery store where you work. I only went because you work there.”

Lance flushed, feeling oddly flattered. He’d have to thank Hunk later.

“It’s why I said no before, too,” Keith said, glancing at Lance for a small, dismayed moment. “I can’t really afford to go out or anything, not at the moment.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Lance said, standing. “I should have suggested something else, then. I definitely know what it’s like to be without money. Why do you think I work? Living in a household with ten other people can get costly.”

Keith turned to look at him as he rounded the bench. “Yeah?” He asked quietly.

Lance nodded. His pulse was racing but he felt alive from every pore. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Hanging out with you like this is just as good.”

A soft light filled Keith’s eyes. They really did appear to be the loveliest shade of violet when he got that look. He dropped his spatula – Lance finally realised that he was making some sort of pasta dish – and before he knew it, he had and armful of Keith. Soft hair, clutching fingers, cold lips and all.

And those lips of his really were cold as he pressed them again Lance’s.


	18. Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And sure, Lance had kissed other people before and he thought he was pretty damn good at it, but this was _different._

Lance didn’t know what to do with his hands. They hovered, useless, just above Keith’s sides for a moment before Keith was leaning into him, pushing right into Lance’s space. This time, he took the hint.

His hands felt surprisingly hot as he rested them on Keith’s hips. He could feel his warmth passing through Keith’s thin shirt, warming the skin directly beneath it. If the small sound Keith pressed into his mouth was anything to go by then he surely appreciated it, too. In fact, Keith’s mouth was doing a lot of things. He kissed insistently at Lance’s mouth, so relentless and persistent that Lance almost – _almost_ – struggled to keep up.

And sure, Lance had kissed other people before and he thought he was pretty damn good at it, but this was _different._ He didn’t want to kiss Keith the way he’d kissed the girls from the Garrison, he wanted to kiss Keith _better._ Because, yeah, those girls had meant something to him, but they didn’t mean the same things that Keith meant. He didn’t really know what Keith meant just yet, but he did know he meant _more,_ and that was enough for him.

There wasn’t much of a height difference between them, only a handful of centimetres at the most, but it suddenly felt like there was so much more. Keith was definitely standing up on his toes; his bare feet nudged against Lance’s, but he didn’t seem to notice. With the way his tongue pressed at the seam of Lance’s lips, Lance didn’t really notice, either. Really, where did Keith learn to kiss like that?

Because it was good. Like, really good. Lance could already feel his knees starting to go weak. He was sure he would melt into a puddle any minute now. Keith’s hand, his palm roughened by calluses that Lance had never noticed before, was holding Lance’s jaw exactly where he wanted it. The other had wound its way into the hair at the back of Lance’s head, Keith’s elbow resting on his shoulder. Lance had never felt so man-handled and he loved it.

Keith pressed against him harder. Lance could feel the frantic rise and fall of Keith’s chest, much like his own. Keith turned Lance’s head to the side, changing the angle, and he suddenly felt _closer_ than before. His tongue pressed into Lance’s mouth again, hot and wet, but this time Lance reciprocated the action, his hands holding Keith’s hipbones firmly. Keith let out a quiet moan, his fingers tightening their grip in Lance’s hair. He kissed Lance harder, unrelentingly, so much so that Lance couldn’t help but stumble backwards. 

He blamed the damn spatula that Keith had dropped for when he fell back on the floor, his back pressed up tight against the cupboards. Keith toppled into his lap, one hand coming up to press against the cupboards beside Lance’s head, effectively keeping himself from falling headfirst into them. His knees were on either side of Lance’s hips and he was hunched over so that their mouths were almost touching. 

“H-holy shit,” Lance breathed out. Keith pulled back, just an inch, to look at Lance properly. His pupils were blown wide, and his lips were wet and swollen. Lance knew he must look just the same. “Don’t stop.”

Keith grinned, a slow, curling grin that made his eyes seem brighter and his cheeks seem redder, before he pressed back in again. He kept one hand pressed against the cupboards but the other went back to Lance’s jaw, tilting it up to suit Keith’s own pleasure.

And yeah, Lance _really_ enjoyed being man-handled like that. If Keith happened to sit down he’d definitely realise just how much Lance was enjoying himself.

As it was, the chance for that incredibly embarrassing situation to happen never arose. Instead, the water Keith had left boiling on the stovetop overflowed, sending the skewed lid toppling to the floor. It suddenly smelt like something was burning to a crisp. 

Keith swore sharply, and jerked upright. He grabbed a tea towel before picking up the stray lid and moving it aside. “I’ve ruined it,” he muttered. He looked flustered, but like he was trying to hold it back, and it made Lance’s heart ache. 

Lance pushed himself up. His legs were wobbly, but not so much that he couldn’t walk. “Let me see,” he said, voice gentle. He put his arm low around Keith’s waist to move him to the side and peered into the pot. The pasta looked just shy of being overcooked, so he took the tea towel from Keith, turned the stove off, and drained the water from the pot over the sink. “Don’t worry, it’s still fine,” he said, grinning. “What’s next in the recipe?”

Keith gave him a strange, flushed look, like he couldn’t quite believe Lance was still around – which was stupid, by the way, because clearly Lance was interested. Almost bashfully – all things considering, it was funny after what they’d done – Keith handed him the recipe. He’d written everything so neatly that Lance was sure his heart had melted. Keith had gone to so much effort to try and cook that Lance was determined to make sure it worked out.

 

In the end, the dinner wasn’t so bad. The pasta was a little stiff but the sauce was nice and they both had a glass of juice on the side. They sat at the small dining table at Keith’s insistence _because we’re not allowed to eat on the couch Lance, seriously you’ll spill something and I don’t know how to clean out pasta stains._ Lance only went along with it because Keith tangled their ankles together under the table and left them there while they ate.

After dinner, Lance insisted on helping wash up. Although Keith technically hadn’t done the cooking, Lance still said that he did, and more than happily washed the dishes. There weren’t that many, anyway. Afterwards, they both retired to the couch to relax before Keith drove Lance home. Keith had tucked himself under Lance’s arm, his cheek pressed against Lance’s chest. It was comfortable and domestic and if Lance’s heart happened to race beneath Keith’s ear then neither of them mentioned it.

“Hey, Lance?”

“Yeah?”

Keith glanced up at him. “We’re… _something,_ right?”

Lance flushed. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I mean- I mean I don’t know what, but something. Definitely something. Is that… is that okay, for now?”

Keith flushed. He was starting to squirm, just a little; Lance could feel it, but neither one of them pulled away. “Yeah, it’s okay,” Keith said. “But, I… I never really told my parents about any of this,” he admitted, waving a hand between them. “About the fact that I like-”

“It’s okay,” Lance interrupted. He could see Keith was getting tense with anxiousness again, and he didn’t want that to happen. He rubbed his hand soothingly over Keith’s shoulders in an attempt to chase it away. “I understand.”

“You’re not mad?” Keith asked, glancing away. “I can’t really- I can’t go on dates in public, and not just because of the money. If anyone told my parents, I don’t know what they’d do.”

“Keith, we can take this as slowly as you want,” Lance said, voice serious. “I mean, kissing and stuff aside – you don’t have to tell anyone, and if you don’t want me to, I can respect that. I would want to tell my family and friends if something does come of this, but it’s a two way street, you know? Just don’t stay quiet if anything makes you uncomfortable.”

Keith nodded. His fingers sought out Lance’s, and he held on tightly. He pressed closer, and let out a long breath. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “Can we kiss again now?”

Lance laughed. “Come here, mullet-boy.”


	19. Readable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're just readable."

“Seriously, nothing happened.”

“Uh-huh.”

 _“Hunk,_ I’m being serious. Don’t give me that look.”

“And what look would that be, Lance?”

“The look that says you think I’m lying.”

“I don’t think that.”

“Good.”

“I know it.”

Lance sent him a withering stare, though he couldn’t hold it for long. He never could when Hunk was concerned. “You know I don’t want to say anything,” he complained, leaning on the broomstick he held. He’d been in the middle of sweeping the shop’s floor when Hunk had come in bearing a box of macarons for them to share. 

“I know, I know,” Hunk said, holding his hands up in defeat. He had a teasing smile on his face, but it was warm. “But you haven’t stopped smiling since I walked in, so it’s kind of obvious.”

Lance huffed. “You gotta stop doing that.”

“Stop doing what?”

 _“Reading me,_ I’m not a damn book,” Lance said, though there wasn’t any bite in his voice. “How do you do that, anyway?”

Hunk shrugged, and reached for a yellow macaron. “You’re just readable.”

Lance let out an exaggerated sigh, and reached for a red macaron. “Okay, but you can’t tell anyone what you think you know.”

Hunk nodded obediently. “Yeah, I know. You’ll tell me eventually though, right? I mean, this was Keith’s idea wasn’t it? Doesn’t seem like something you’d hide.”

Lance shrugged a shoulder loosely. “It isn’t really, but I don’t want to rush it. I just respect what Keith wants, that’s all. Even if he does have stupid hair.”

Hunk laughed. “Just admit it, you love his hair.”

Lance rolled his eyes, finished off his macaron, and went back to sweeping. “Don’t you have a job or something?”

Hunk only laughed again, and stood. “I do, actually,” he said. He slung his arm around Lance’s shoulders, drawing him in for a quick hug. “Don’t worry about it too much, dude. I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end. Don’t rush anything.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed. He returned Hunk’s hug. “You coming over this Saturday?”

“Having dinner at yours again?”

“Yeah, _Tía_ is renovating and _Mamá_ wants to stay close to home for now. Luci got a bit of a fever last night.”

“I’ll come along.”

“Keith is coming, too.”

“I expected that,” Hunk grinned. “I haven’t seen him in a while, it’ll be nice to catch up.”

“If you say so.”

Really, Lance was a little nervous to be around his friends _and_ his family _and_ his Keith-something. Any two of those probably would have been fine, but all three together spelt nothing but humiliation for him. Still, he was kind of excited. Sure, no one (except Hunk) would know for sure that he and Keith were each other’s _something,_ but he knew that wouldn’t stop them from teasing the heck out of him. Hell, they’d already done it countless times before.

As he was thinking, his phone buzzed. He already knew what the message was before he opened it – a photo from Keith showing Lance what he’d made for lunch. Now that Lance knew his eating schedule down pat, it was easy to predict when Keith would send him photos. Today it was leftover pasta from their date, heated up in the microwave.

It was nice that Keith wanted to share those little moments with Lance. It made him feel closer to Keith in some weird, roundabout way. Maybe Lance would start doing the same thing, too.

Well, nothing better to start off a photo exchange than a pretty picture of himself, he thought, as he lifted up his phone.

 

Halfway through the week, Keith stopped in by the grocery store to pick up a few things. The day had been slow so Lance carried his basket and accompanied him around the store as though Keith still didn’t know where anything was. Lance, now more aware of Keith’s financial situation, was sure only to suggest things that were both easy to cook and affordable.

Like eggs, for example. Keith scowled at them, but Lance put a fresh dozen in his basket, anyway. “I’ll show you how to make them again,” he’d offered. At that, Keith’s scowl had promptly disappeared. 

He went over to Keith’s house that night, actually. His parents didn’t mind as long as he was home before it got too dark, and Keith would give him a lift so going over hadn’t been a problem. His _Mamá_ insisted that he take leftovers from their last dinner over to Keith so that they’d have something to eat.

“I’m going to be cooking anyway,” Lance had told her.

“Take some food over, it’s polite,” she’d said in that voice that meant there was no way Lance would win. “Considering he’s putting up with you for so long.”

 _“Mamá,_ don’t be mean!”

 

Keith had his hair tied up again, that night. After a long and kind of desperate (alright, really desperate) make-out session on his couch, his hair was too messy to tie back up (Lance’s fault) so he left it down. The whole dishevelled-and-debauched look was good on him. 

As it turned out, Lance really did do all the cooking that night. Keith still learned how to do it again, of course, but he did so with his chin digging into Lance’s shoulder and his arms around Lance’s waist. Lance had never really realised that Keith was just as broad as him until he had Keith pressed right up against his back. 

They ate at the table – _seriously, Lance, don’t even think about trying to sneak into the lounge room_ – and Keith washed up. Lance had never thought he’d find himself where he was in that moment, but there wasn’t a single thing he would change. Okay, maybe he’d change the amount of times they’d awkwardly clashed heads when they were younger or the hot-headed misconceptions they’d had regarding one another, but what they had now he’d leave as it was.

As Keith was drying his hands on the tea towel, he spoke. “My parents are coming back in two weeks,” he said. He wasn’t looking at Lance, but his words made Lance sit up a little straighter.

“You don’t have to tell them anything you’re not comfortable with,” Lance reminded him. “You know that, right?”

Keith didn’t answer, but he did sigh. “You won’t be able to come over as much,” he said. “They’re not used to me having people over, except maybe for Shiro.”

“Shiro?” Lance repeated. “You mean the famous, Golden Boy Shiro from the Garrison? You know _him?”_

Keith raised a brow at the passion in Lance’s voice. “Yeah, our families are friends. He’s like a cousin.”

Lance just gaped at him. “You know _Shiro_ and you never told me? He has all the best flight and combat records in the Garrison!”

Keith laughed, and set down the tea towel in favour of settling himself sideways across Lance’s lap. His arms came up to rest on Lance’s shoulders, one hand tangling its fingers into Lance’s hair. “Careful,” he said, his tone light and teasing, “or I’ll get jealous.”

A small laugh built in Lance’s throat. “Alright, alright. But seriously, don’t stress about your parents. You never know how they’ll react if you choose to tell them. And you’ll always be welcome at my house. God knows my mother likes you. Do you see how much food she makes me bring over? She’s only ever made me do that to Hunk before.”

“Not Pidge?”

“Oh, no, Pidge can definitely take care of himself,” Lance laughed. _“Mamá_ has a good sense for who will appreciate her coddling and who won’t, though she always does sneak at least one container into Pidge’s bag when she thinks no one is looking.”

Keith smiled. He was close enough that Lance could feel the ghost of that small smile against his lips. “Your parents are nice,” he said.

“Yeah, they’re alright,” Lance grinned teasingly. “You can come over whenever you want.”

“I’m already coming this Saturday,” Keith reminded him.

“I know,” Lance said. “Just saying.”

Keith nodded. His fingers absently traced a line along Lance’s cheekbones, pushing hair behind his ear. It was so undeniably affectionate that Lance felt like he’d start purring any minute.

He would have liked to stay there forever.


	20. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's with the stars?"

Like the previous week, Lance helped his mother cook when Saturday came. Keith liked his cooking and Lance liked to show off with it so it wasn’t like it was a waste of time. His mother liked the help, too, and almost always appreciated company in the kitchen.

Keith arrived first that evening – Lance had invited him over an hour earlier again. He thought Keith would appreciate being able to settle into the dynamics at Lance’s house before everyone arrived for the night. He made sure he was the one who answered the door first, too. He’d been listening for the sound of Keith’s car wheels crunching across the driveway.

“Hey,” Lance said, grinning as he held the door wide open. Just the sight of Keith set his stomach off in knots. “Come in. You hungry?”

Keith shook his head. “No, I’m alright,” he said. “Can I have something to drink instead?”

“Yeah, sure. Juice alright?”

It was, and after Lance had gotten them both glasses and herded Keith through the swarm of siblings that came to greet him, they ended up in his room. Lance sat cross-legged on his desk chair, but Keith sprawled across his bed like he owned it. Lance didn’t particularly mind. If anything, he got a nice view of Keith’s body stretched out and relaxed.

“What’s with the stars?”

“Stars?” Lance repeated. He glanced at his ceiling. “Oh, those. I’ve had them up there since I was a kid. My Dad help me put them up.”

“They’re the ones that glow in the dark, right?”

“Yeah. They were like a nightlight, but I like them, so I left them there. I even snuck some into the Garrison.”

Keith laughed quietly. “Did you really?”

“Yeah, got in trouble for it, too. I had them stuck on the ceiling, but after I was told to take them down I stuck them on the back of the door instead. They never looked there, you know. It was genius.”

Keith laughed again. “I guess it was, if you never got caught again.”

Lance grinned. “Who, me? I’m the master of stealth, my man. I can get past _anything.”_

Keith snorted at his bravado and Lance smiled at Keith’s voice and he was pretty sure they both enjoyed the time alone.

 

Hunk and Pidge arrived a little bit before his family. They all moved out into the backyard around one of the bonfire drums, though the fire hadn’t been started just yet. Lance wanted to make sure they all got seats, because as much as he probably would have enjoyed sharing with Keith again he did not want to do that in front of his friends.

Yet.

But for now, they all had their own seats (even if Lance had nudged his closer to Keith’s when no one was looking). Lance was rather content to sit around and listen to everyone talk; even though they hadn’t seen each other in a while, Hunk, Pidge and Keith got along quite well. They talked about their time in the Garrison and what they were doing now. He’d been talking with Keith for quite a while now, but Lance still learned new things about him – like the fact that he was working at the local air range, and that he had quite a lot of good career prospects just like the ones the Garrison had offered its graduates. 

When food was served, Hunk and Lance got up to fetch their plates. Pidge and Keith were left to mind their seats and the fire, which had eventually been lit by Lance’s dad. By now, Lance knew exactly what foods Keith liked, so he made sure to fix up a plate of things that he’d enjoy eating. If Hunk gave him a knowing look for it, then Lance only flushed and ignored him. 

After they’d eaten, Lance’s siblings dragged chairs around to join them. Lance could already feel the teasing coming on, so he stubbornly turned to face Keith instead. One look at Emilio’s cheeky grin, matched only by Tomas, and Lance was sure he would combust. Unexpectedly, when he turned his head, he found that Keith was already looking at him.

Again, he was surprisingly overcome by the feeling of being exposed. Who knew what faces he’d made when Keith was watching him? Had they been ugly? He didn’t want to think about it, so he plastered a smile on his face, instead. “What’s up?”

Keith peered at him. He was turned on his side in the chair, his head propped under one of his arms. The last lights of day were all but faded now, leaving his face illuminated by nothing more than the fire. Like usual, the firelight matched beautifully with his skin, and seemed to set his eyes alight. “How do you think your family would react if they- you know, if they knew…?” He asked, his voice nothing more than a hushed whisper. “Like, your parents?”

Lance raised his eyebrows, and inched a little bit closer. “I think they’d be fine with it,” he said, just as quietly. “They already know I’m into guys and girls, and they like you. I mean, I can’t be sure because I’ve never really brought anyone home, but I’m fairly certain they wouldn’t mind. They’re cool like that.”

“What about your siblings?”

Lance huffed. “They’ve already tried to set us up before, remember? They stole our chairs, and then Tomas told you to say-” 

“What?” Keith sat up a little straighter, amusement taunting at the corners of his lips. “I knew it was something bad. What did I say?”

 _“Quiero besar a Lance,”_ Lance said, “means _I want to kiss Lance.”_

Keith’s mouth opened in surprise. He flushed so hard that not even the firelight could hide the sudden redness in his cheeks. “Oh my God,” he said, mortified. “I can’t believe I said that!”

Lance couldn’t help it, he laughed. The kind of laughter that made his face scrunch up and his eyes water because _damn,_ Keith looked so embarrassed. Lance had never seen him look like that before! “Worked out alright in the end, didn’t it? Besides, it’s true, anyway.”

If Keith had a pillow – or anything he could throw, really – on him, then Lance was sure he would have been hit in the face. As it was, Keith settled for scowling. “Shut up, you jerk!”

“Why don’t you make me, mullet-boy?”

“No foreplay around the children!” Emilio cried indignantly, throwing his hands over Adora’s ears as she sat in his lap. “How scandalous, Lance.”

_“Emilio!”_

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Emilio grinned. “Keep that reserved for Keith.”

_“Dios mio!”_


	21. Tree-Swing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And not having a tree-swing was a _tragedy,_ Lance was adamant about that.

At the border of their fence, there was a tree. Lance remembered many summers spent swinging from the little wooden bench they tied to its thickest branches. The younger kids still used it a lot but Lance had sort of grown out of it, mostly because he was afraid his weight might break it. 

That didn’t stop him from encouraging Keith to get on it, though. He’d spotted Keith eyeing it up every now and then, and after a few carefully placed questions he realised that Keith had never swung on one. 

“Didn’t you have one in your backyard?”

“Not really.”

And not having a tree-swing was a _tragedy,_ Lance was adamant about that. He’d pulled a begrudging Keith up from his chair and all but dragged him to the swing, grinning broadly. Apparently, with both Lance’s overexcitement and Keith’s evident reluctance, the others had been incensed enough to join him.

Because Pidge was the smallest and the lightest, Lance had him get on the swing first. He did so with a petulant, blank look, and sat stiff and uncomfortable as Lance pushed him. Lance had thought it was utterly hilarious, and was glad to see that the swing could hold some weight. Pidge didn’t quite have the same opinion, but Lance knew he secretly enjoyed it. He was just bitter for appearance’s sake.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Keith asked sceptically. He was giving the seat a doubtful look, even as Lance held tight to the ropes.

“Yeah, it’s all good!” Lance gripped. “Hop on already, or are you _scared,_ mullet-boy?”

Keith scowled at him, flushing. “No,” he mumbled so that only Lance could hear. “Just don’t drop me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lance said. He meant it, too. He would be sure Keith didn’t get hurt. Like he’d imaged, the swing held Keith’s weight, and within moments Keith’s hesitation bled away. He didn’t seem to mind letting Lance push him; Lance’s hands were firm but gentle at his back, making sure never to push him too hard. “I used to use this thing a lot when I was a kid.”

Keith glanced back up at him, eyes light and curious. “You don’t anymore?”

Lance only shrugged. “It’s more fun to push the little kids.”

“I’m not a little kid.”

“It’s fun to push you, too,” Lance grinned.

Keith flushed. The warmth in his cheeks was very captivating.

Of course, when they returned to their seats around the fire, Lance had been teased endlessly about being too romantic about pushing Keith on the swing. Lance found that he didn’t really have the heart to complain anymore because he _liked_ when they thought that he was treating Keith right. Even if his family and friends didn’t know for sure that Keith and he were dating, it still felt good.

At least Keith didn’t seem to mind. He rolled his eyes and laughed when appropriate and even sassed back at Emilio – which did awful, awful things to Lance’s sanity. Just awful.

When it was time for Keith to leave, Lance was sure to walk him out. Keith said his goodbyes to Lance’s friends and siblings before they made his way to Lance’s parents. His _Mamá_ already had a bag full of leftovers ready to go, and she smiled sweetly at Keith when he bashfully took it, murmuring, “Thank you for this. I really enjoy your cooking.”

A compliment to her food was a direct connection to her heart. “We’re always happy to have you, Keith,” she’d replied. “Come over more often!”

There weren’t any people out the front of Lance’s house. It was private and quiet and too dark to see from the windows, so when Keith collapsed against him, Lance needily took comfort in him. Keith fit so well into his arms that Lance was always pleasantly surprised. He could fit his hands against the dip above Keith’s hipbones and press his nose into the side of Keith’s head and just breathe him in. It was oddly comforting, especially when Keith’s arms wound around his waist so that he could press his hands flat against the small of Lance’s back.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Keith whispered. His breath was warm against Lance’s neck and it made him shiver. “Your family is fun to be around.”

“You can come around more often, if you want,” Lance offered. _“Mamá_ doesn’t mind.”

Keith chuckled. It was a small, satisfied sound. “I might take you up on that,” he admitted, before finally drawing away. “I’ll see you later?”

Lance nodded. “Text me when you get home.”

Keith nodded. He hesitated for a moment, looking a tad unsure, before leaning in.

Lance met him halfway, and pressed a small kiss to his lips. He was incredibly thankful that it was so dark; no nosy family members were bound to see him kissing the pretty boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a couple hundred words short, ahh T_T I fell asleep writing it four times :')


	22. Patient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith knew that on this matter, he could be patient.

After Keith had driven away and Lance could no longer see his car light, he returned back to his friends. Hunk and Pidge were still sitting by the fire, though Lance’s siblings had all flittered away somewhere else now that their main source of entertainment had gone home. Ridiculous, really. They just loved to humiliate him.

He’d get them back for it soon enough. He always did.

“He seems calmer now,” Pidge remarked as Lance settled back into his seat. “Keith, I mean.”

“Does he?” Lance asked, surprised. “He feels exactly the same to me.”

Hunk raised his brows.

Lance flushed. “Well, almost the same.”

Pidge rolled his eyes. “Yes, he does feel different. You don’t rile him up as much as you used to when we were back in the Garrison. Not in the same way, at least.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Lance asked defensively. He rubbed his arm, trying to hide his embarrassment. He thought it was pretty obvious. 

“It is,” Hunk agreed quietly. “Don’t think that it isn’t. You know we’re glad that you’re happy, right? It’s weird to see you when you’re not preoccupied with something.”

Lance frowned a little, confused. “What do you mean?”

Hunk rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, back in the Garrison you were intensely focused on flight training, right? And when we have our apprenticeship training with the Garrison scholarships you’re just as focused on that. When we don’t, it’s like you have nothing do turn your attention to. You know you’ve always been a little hyper.”

Lance nodded. Hunk wasn’t wrong there. He’d been a really hyperactive kid, and although he’d learned to redirect that energy while in the Garrison, he supposed not all bad habits could be shook. “So now I put my attention on Keith?”

“Something like that,” Hunk said, shrugging a shoulder. “Like I said, it’s not a bad thing. I always thought you two would get along really well, and you do. At least from what I can see, anyway. It’s nice.”

“If you say so,” he said. He didn’t know how to feel about that, but he thought it might have felt good. Having Hunk’s approval for something was always good, even if he was hesitant like he was now. He didn’t want anyone assuming he was together with Keith out of respect for Keith’s boundaries, even if it was his closest friends. But to know that Hunk would approve – that he had this roundabout way of telling Lance it was good and okay – was heartening.

“I still think it’s weird,” Pidge muttered. 

Oddly enough, it made Lance laugh. 

 

As the weekend neared once more, Lance noticed that Keith was becoming more and more antsy. He knew that Keith’s parents were returning that week and that Keith was stressed about it, but he didn’t think it would get this bad. Keith was practically a wreck and in turn Lance was getting troubled.

Keith would come visit Lance at the shop every day during his lunch breaks. Lance knew he had to drive across town to get there and when he mentioned it, Keith had just shrugged it off. He stayed for much longer on the days he didn’t work, keeping Lance company behind the counter. If Lance were being completely honest, he was kind of glad Keith was around. The flow of customers at the store – aside from the ducks – was generally quite slow, especially during the week.

Sometimes, Lance didn’t know how to comfort him. It was frustrating, because he didn’t like to see Keith work himself into such an anxious state.

“You don’t _know_ my parents, Lance,” he’d stress as he paced back and forth in front of the register, completely ignoring Lance’s attempts to hold him. “They’re definitely not going to be happy. What if they hate me?”

“They won’t hate you,” Lance said. He truly believed that. “Listen, it’ll be alright. You don’t have to tell them.”

Keith had given him a flushed, frustrated look. “I _want_ to tell them. I want to tell your family, too.”

Did Keith know how fast he made Lance’s heart beat? Because it had been positively racing beneath his skin at that. He hadn’t thought Keith would want to tell everyone so soon, but he didn’t mind telling them, either. And sure, he and Keith hadn’t really labelled what their relationship was just yet, but it was something substantial enough to feel good. Good enough to want to tell other people, even. 

“You can tell them – tell everyone – on your own terms,” Lance had reminded him, voice firm. He’d caught Keith by the elbows and pulled him in, wrestling Keith into compliance until Keith had slumped against him. “You already know how I feel about it. Just take your time, yeah? Nothing wrong with that.”

He’d told Keith clearly what he’d felt about the whole secret relationship thing. Yeah, he wanted to tell his family, but he wasn’t particularly fussed at keeping it a secret for a little bit longer, either. It was kind of exhilarating to feel like he had some big, important secret that only he and Keith knew. He liked having Keith all to himself, even for just a little while. Keith knew that on this matter, he could be patient.

But still, Keith’s anxiousness was making _him_ anxious. What would he wear to meet them? Would Keith tell them straight away, or wait until after they had known him for a little while? Would Keith’s parents like him? Would they think he was good enough for their only child? He hoped they liked him, because he really liked Keith. 

“I just don’t want them to mess anything up,” Keith had finally told Lance as the weekend pressed closer. “They don’t even know I like guys.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine with it,” Lance said, though he no longer sounded as sure of himself as he once did. “You’re their kid, and they love you.”

Keith gave him a listless shrug. “Sometimes I don’t really think that. It’s not like they know me. All they know is that I went from being a needy child into a kid who was expelled from the Garrison, and by that time I was old enough to be left home alone.”

Lance held Keith tight that evening, ignoring the floors that needed to be swept and the produce that needed to be packed away into the refrigerators. He felt like Keith might cry, though he didn’t. The more Lance got to know him, the more he discovered just how brittle Keith actually was. It was like nothing had ever really provoked any reaction out of him, because he’d never had anyone who willingly stuck by him.

Until his stupid rivalry with him, Lance thought.


	23. Worried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

“They’ll be back Saturday.”

Lance winced, but he hid it from Keith. He’d spent the entire evening at Keith’s house teaching him how to cook pasta and chicken. He knew Keith was worried, and was glad to be able to distract him this way. For all intents and purposes, the cooking had gone well – Keith didn’t overcook the pasta and Lance made sure the chicken wasn’t underdone. 

“Don’t worry too much,” Lance said as he stirred the chicken around in the pan with a wooden spoon. He snuck a look at Keith who was glaring his worries into the pasta. “You’re going to get wrinkles.”

Keith gave him a look, and turned away from the pasta. He wandered over to Lance and squeezed his way in between Lance and the stove, huffing. It was an exhausted sound. “Saturday’s are for bonfires,” he mumbled.

Lance wrapped an arm around Keith’s waist. “There will be more Saturdays,” he said quietly. He rested the wooden spoon against the rim of the pan and lifted his free hand so that he could brush Keith’s hair out of his face, freeing up space on his forehead for a small kiss. “Don’t stress over it, yeah? _Mamá_ will still make you food.”

Keith just huffed again. His breath was warm against Lance’s neck. “I like the bonfires, though.”

“Yeah, but you gotta spend time with your parents, too,” Lance said gently. “Catch up with them. It might be fun!”

“Maybe,” Keith shrugged. “I don’t really get along with them well.”

“But they’re nice to you, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Keith sighed. He turned his face further into Lance’s neck like he really didn’t want to think about it. “It’s not like they’re around much, anyway.”

Lance kissed his forehead again. Keith sounded sad when it said it, this time. Lance knew that Keith’s parents worked overseas and out of town a lot, and Keith had lived in the Garrison for a few years before he was expelled. It made sense that he hadn’t seen them much, but before the Garrison, when he was younger… Lance shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that because then he would start comparing it to his own childhood and that would make him sad.

“Do you think I should tell them on Saturday?” Keith suddenly asked him. “M-maybe not about _us_ yet, but maybe just about me?”

“It’s completely up to you, babe,” Lance said. “I’m fine with anything you choose, alright? Do what makes you comfortable. Besides, it’s only Thursday. You’ve got heaps of time to think it over, and I’ll listen if you want to talk it out.”

Keith nodded. “Alright.”

“Now then, I know I’m completely irresistible, but there is pasta over there calling your name. Shoo!”

 

Predictably, Keith spent all of Friday night texting Lance. They hadn’t had a chance to meet up during the day other than when Keith had his lunch break, but even then they’d only had half an hour or so. Lance had wanted to go over to Keith’s to make dinner again, but he thought that Keith maybe needed the alone time to think.

He was the type of person who seemed like that would help, after all. Lance knew that he personally dealt much better with decisions when he had other people around, but Keith was the opposite of him. He seemed to appreciate the space, anyway.

Towards the end of the night, Keith rang him. Lance holed himself up in his room, his door closed, to answer it. “You feeling okay?”

“No,” Keith answered. “They must be on the plane by now.”

Lance laid down on his bed, and stared at his ceiling. His sky of stars glowed faintly. “It’ll do you no good to worry about it now,” he said. “Have you had dinner? You didn’t send me a photo.”

Keith had the decency to at least sound a little ashamed. “No, I couldn’t eat, I’m too nervous,” he muttered. He didn’t _sound_ nervous, but that was just Keith. “I just don’t want them to mess anything up.”

“They won’t,” Lance said. “I mean, I don’t think they’d do anything to you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

Lance blinked. He hadn’t thought about that – his concerns had only been about Keith, about what they’d say to him and how they’d react to his confessions. If they were angry, would they turn that on Lance, too? They might think he was the one who made Keith interested in guys, even if that wasn’t true. 

“Lance?”

“It’s fine,” Lance eventually said. “Don’t worry about me, yeah? I’m sure they won’t do anything. To either of us. Just focus on yourself, alright? One step at a time.”

“Okay,” Keith breathed out a sigh. “Okay, one step. I can do that.”

“Good,” Lance said, pleased. “First step – go to bed.”

That got him a small laugh. “I _am_ in bed.”

“Oh, trying to seduce me there, mullet-boy?”

Keith spluttered. “N-no!”

Lance just grinned. “Aw,” he teased. “I even dressed up pretty.”

“Lance, you’re insufferable.”

“And don’t you forget it!” Lance laughed. “You gotta work to get a cool guy like me. I’m a real catch.”

Keith laughed quietly. “Yeah, yeah, whatever floats your boat. Hey, thanks for listening though. I feel like I’m going crazy over this.”

“It’s alright,” Lance said as he rolled over, hiding his flushed face in his pillows. “When I come to complain about Emilio to you I expect you to listen.”

Keith laughed again. “I will,” he promised. “I might take your advice and go to sleep now –or try to, anyway. Goodnight, Lance.”

“Goodnight, Keith.”

Even though he’d seemed confident enough to soothe Keith, Lance was worried. He didn’t like realising that maybe Keith’s parents might blame him for what they perceived was wrong with Keith. What if Keith came to hate him for it? It might be his fault that Keith’s parents have a falling out with Keith, if it were to happen. He just didn’t know enough about them, and all the _it’ll be alright’_ s in the world wouldn’t change that.


	24. Clinical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt like such a clinical conversation that Lance was momentarily hurt.

Saturday saw Lance frantic with anxiousness. His _Mamá_ picked up on it almost instantly, as did Anahi and Polly, but the others didn’t really notice. He spent the morning burying his worries in piles of freshly baked pancakes for breakfast before moving onto the food for tonight’s dinner. He was sure to leave some pancakes aside for Keith, though. He didn’t think he’d cooked them for Keith yet.

It was only when he’d cooked enough paella to feed the entire family, even those who did not favour it, that his mother stepped in.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Lance?” She asked, taking his hand. “You seem a little upset.”

He offered her a tight smile. “I’m alright,” he said. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Like always, she believed him – at least, she believed him when he said he could handle it. Lance knew that she was definitely aware of his concern, but she wouldn’t pressure him into sharing it if he didn’t want to. “I’m here if you need me,” she said, before releasing his hand. “But no more paella! Who will eat all of this, huh?”

Lance laughed quietly. “I’ll make Emilio eat it all for embarrassing me.”

She grinned, and patted his shoulder. “Good idea.”

Emilio didn’t like paella.

 

Lance hid in his room for a long time even after people starting arriving. He’d gotten a few, scattered texts from Keith throughout the day – pictures of his cereal and then a cup of hot chocolate (Lance had left the mix there last time he’d gone over, knowing Keith wouldn’t be able to resist it). 

He was worried. He knew Keith’s parents would be home by now, and it was the time of night that meant they’d probably be eating dinner. Would Keith be able to eat? His parents would cook something nice for him, wouldn’t they? Keith really was kind of fussy when it came to eating, even if he tried everything Lance him.

Sometimes Lance thought that Keith only liked the foods because he was the one that made them. That thought always had him feeling a little better.

Emilio had tried to convince him to come out for a little bit, as did Anahi, but Lance really wasn’t feeling it. Adora came to sit with him for a while, her little feet hanging off the bed as she wove plastic butterfly clips into Lance’s hair. It kind of pulled on his scalp but Lance didn’t stop her. Even if the clips hurt a bit, her hands were always careful and gentle.

After Adora left, Polly took her place. She’d been dressed up nicely in a fluffy dress, probably chosen by Adora, but that didn’t stop her from curling up beside Lance with a book in her hands. She read out loud for a while, her finger following the words on the page. Lance ran his fingers through her wavy hair as she did.

“When is Keith coming back?” She asked, her voice quiet, as she flipped a page in her book. “He’s nice.”

“Next week, maybe?” Lance replied, sighing. “He was busy this week.”

Polly frowned a little, but didn’t complain. “Is Keith okay?”

Lance raised his brows, surprised by the question. “He should be okay.”

“Are you okay?”

“I should be, too,” he chuckled quietly, and pressed a kiss to Polly’s forehead. “I’m just worried about him, that’s all. He’s a real troublemaker.”

“No he’s not,” Polly giggled. “He’s a good boy.”

Lance pouted, and poked Polly’s chubby cheek. “Aren’t I a good boy too?”

“No!” She giggled again. “You’re just Lance.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

Polly always was able to cheer him up. Not just him, too, but all of his siblings. She was quiet and liked to keep to herself, yes, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like spending time with them, too. She always managed to say the right things, even though she was so young. 

He got a text from Keith a little while later. Polly had fallen asleep on his bed, but the sound of the phone didn’t wake her.

_They don’t believe me._

Lance frowned at his phone, and carefully sat up. _They don’t believe you? What do you mean?_

_When I told them I was gay._

Lance’s heart thumped. He didn’t know what to say to that, and his fingers anxiously hovered over the keys.

_They think it’s a phase._

How could he tell Keith it was okay? He was lost for words.

_It’s not a phase._

_I know,_ Lance wrote back. _Are you alright?_

_No._

_Lance swallowed heavily. Want me to come over?_

_No._

_I’m here if you need me._

_I know._

It felt like such a clinical conversation that Lance was momentarily hurt. He knew Keith was trying to work through it on his own, but Lance could help. Maybe Keith didn’t want his help, and if that were true, Lance knew he couldn’t blame him. How was he meant to make it all better? He just wanted Keith to be alright.

The more he thought about it, the more it made his head hurt. What if Keith didn’t want to pursue a relationship anymore? It didn’t seem like such a farfetched idea. The stress of this kind of situation might make him want to detach from it completely. 

Lance didn’t want that.

When he thought of it happening, it made his stomach churn. He really liked spending time with Keith, even more so now that they were really getting along. He would respect Keith’s decision, of course, but he really liked Keith.

_Dios mio, I really like Keith._

He hoped he would be able to see Keith tomorrow. He didn’t want Keith to suffer with his own thoughts, because Lance thought he might have a tendency to do so. He was tempted to call Keith, but settled on texting him.

_You’ll be alright, though?_

It took Keith a really long time to reply at that. _Maybe. Can I see you tomorrow? I want to talk._

Lance blinked at his phone, eyes watery, his grip on it tightening. That didn’t sound good, but it didn’t sound bad, either. _Okay._

After that, he left his phone in his room and ventured out into the crowds of family gathered around the fires and the serving tables. Food and good company would surely do him the world of good.


	25. Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Being with me isn't wrong, is it?"

Did Keith even know what it meant to tell someone that they _needed to talk?_ Because Lance certainly did, and he was a complete and utter nervous wreck about it. The distraction of the bonfire only lasted as long as the bonfire itself did, and then after that it was just him and his traitorous thoughts. Lance didn’t want to be Keith-less. He liked having a Keith. Being with Keith was a Good Thing in his life, just like how his friendship with Hunk was a Good Thing and the little giggles Luci made were Good Things and the scent of his father’s cologne was a Good Thing.

“Dude, just chill,” Hunk said. He sounded exhausted, though Lance didn’t blame him – it was the middle of the night. “He probably just wants to chat or something.”

Considering it was obvious that Hunk already knew they were in some sort of relationship, Lance had called him. He knew Hunk wouldn’t tell anyone, and that Hunk would give him good advice. He always did, even if Lance didn’t believe him the first few times. “But what if he wants to break up? I don’t know how his dinner with his parents went.”

Hunk was quiet for a moment. “Maybe that’s what he wants to talk to you about, then,” he decided. “If – and this is just an _if_ – he does want to break up, what will you do?”

“Well it’s not like I can stop him,” Lance whined. “It’s not up to me if that’s what he wants, is it?”

“Doesn’t mean you’ll like it,” Hunk tagged on.

Lance nodded even though Hunk couldn’t see him. He wouldn’t like it if Keith broke up with him. They hadn’t even really established that they were boyfriends just yet. They were still just _somethings._ And being that was still good, so Lance didn’t want to lose that. Besides, it would eventually lead to more, wouldn’t it? It totally would, Lance was sure of it.

“Sorry for bothering you with this,” Lance muttered. “I know I’m being a pain. I’m just worried.”

“Hey, none of that now,” Hunk said. “You know I wouldn’t have answered if I wasn’t willing to hear you out. You’re worried because you care, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Lance made a noise. “You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay… So if Keith doesn’t want to break up with me, what does he want?”

“Oh my God.”

 

Lance didn’t go to Keith’s house to meet up with him; instead, they both went out to sit by the local lake. Those pesky ducks were waddling along the grass and making a general ruckus by the water. Lance still didn’t know how they got so big.

Keith looked like he hadn’t slept at all. His hair had been wrangled back into a ponytail and there were noticeable marks under his eyes. He usually dressed casual, but today he’d taken it to a new level with an oversized jumper that was big enough to cover his hands. It didn’t quite look like it was his.

“You feeling alright?” Lance asked him. He’d brought the pancakes he had made the previous morning, and anxiously passed the container into Keith’s hands. “Here, eat something. It’ll make you feel better.”

Keith accepted the container without complaint, and held it in his lap. “I’m alright,” he said. “Just tired?”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

He shook his head.

Lance pursed his lips. How did he bring up the conversation he wanted to without making everything really awkward? He just wanted to know if Keith was really okay or not. 

“I can feel you brooding,” Keith muttered, glancing up at Lance. “Why do you seem upset?”

Lance startled, face going red. “Y-you said you wanted to talk,” he pointed out indignantly. “Doesn’t that sound foreboding to you?”

Keith gave him a wide-eyed look, his cheeks red. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, glancing away again. “It’s just… I don’t know what to do. It didn’t go well with my parents last night.”

There was a strange knot in Lance’s chest, but it unravelled a little at that. Maybe Keith didn’t want to break up with him after all. “Want to talk about it?”

Keith shrugged on instinct, then hesitated and nodded. “I should,” he said. “I want to. I just don’t know where to start.”

Uncertainly, Lance reached out to take Keith’s hand. When Keith didn’t pull away, Lance gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “Tell me what you told them,” he suggested carefully.

Keith nodded again. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I told them that I’d met someone while they were away.”

Lance was quiet, letting Keith work through the words at his own pace. He felt like his heart was racing a mile a minute.

“They thought I meant a girl,” Keith mumbled. “I didn’t realise, at first, until I mentioned male pronouns. They got really quiet after that. I don’t think they believed me, like it was something I’d joke about. I wouldn’t joke about it, Lance.”

“I know,” he said comfortingly.

“When they realised I wasn’t joking, they got angry at me,” he said. “They want me to find a girlfriend, but I said I wouldn’t. They’re threatening to cut me off from everything they’re providing me because they don’t want someone like me tarnishing their reputation.”

Lance’s heart lurched. “Someone like you?” He repeated, eyebrows drawn up. “Why would they say something like that? There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Keith hunched into his shoulders. “Sometimes I feel like there is.”

Lance hunched too. They were thoughts he’d had in his head for years before he’d completely accepted his identity – or at least come to terms with the fact that it was always changing and that he didn’t really need to label himself. He’d had the support of his huge family and his close friends, but it didn’t seem like Keith had any of that. “What happens if they do cut you off?” He asked.

Keith shrugged. “I don’t know. I won’t have anywhere to live, and my car is registered in my mother’s name. I might be able to live with Shiro for a bit, but I can’t stay with him forever.”

Lance rubbed his hand. “We won’t let that happen, okay? We’ll find a solution. It’ll all work out in the end, you’ll see.”

Keith just shrugged again. “They’re really mad. They haven’t been this angry at me since I was expelled from the Garrison. I knew they wouldn’t agree with anything I said, but this… I thought maybe they’d forgive me because I’m their kid.”

“There’s nothing to forgive you for,” Lance said. “You haven’t done anything wrong, so don’t think you have. Being with me isn’t wrong, is it?”

“No!” Keith shook his head.

“Well then there you go,” Lance said. He leaned forwards to press a small kiss to Keith’s cheek. “How about we talk later, yeah? Pancakes first.”

Keith smiled faintly, and leaned into Lance’s touch. He was quiet for a moment. “You didn’t bring any forks.”

“Oh.”


	26. Expectations pt.I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know what their expectations are, but let’s just… play it cool, yeah?”

“I want you to meet my parents. Well, I want them to meet you.”

“Are you sure?” Lance frowned, worried. His fingers were sticky from the pancakes they’d had to eat with their hands, and he anxiously rubbed them on his jeans. “It… it might not be the best idea. I don’t want to cause any tension.”

“You don’t want to meet them?” Keith asked. “I mean, you don’t have to.”

“No, I want to,” Lance rushed to say, “I just don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”

Keith shut the lid on the empty container in his lap. He’d eaten most of the pancakes, even though Lance had managed to steal a few. He seemed to have enjoyed them, at least. “I want them to see that I’m happy with you,” he said. “Maybe then they’ll stop and think about it, instead of just assuming things.”

Lance was quiet for a moment. “You’ve thought about this a lot, huh?”

Keith nodded.

“If you think it’ll help, then I’m up for anything,” he said. “When do you want me to meet them?”

“Tonight?”

Lance spluttered. “T-tonight?”

Keith nodded again. “Yeah. Come over for dinner.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

“Alright.”

Lance wasn’t particularly fond of the idea that he’d be meeting Keith’s parents so soon, but if Keith needed him to then he would. He wouldn’t ever second-guess Keith’s judgments on something like this, but he was a little bit concerned. It didn’t help that he’d already been nervous about the whole thing, too.

After making sure Keith was really alright for the moment, they parted ways. Lance was lucky he’d been given the day off because Coran wanted to fix something with the refrigerators. It meant that Lance had the day to prepare himself, both mentally and physically. He didn’t want to accidentally say something that might mess things up even worse for Keith, and do anything that could offend his parents.

He kind of was already offending them by dating their kid.

Regardless, he spent most of the day doing normal things. It was easy to distract himself when there were dishes to clean and clothes to fold and annoying siblings to chase out of the pantry every five minutes. Keith had texted him the time he’d swing by to pick Lance up, so Lance knew exactly how much time he had to waste before he had to start getting ready.

Keith hadn’t really said how to dress, so Lance went with something smart and completely unrevealing. Jeans with no rips and a long-sleeved, button-down shirt done all the way up to the top bottom looked respectable enough, didn’t it? Google had said it did.

“Going somewhere tonight, Lance?”

He jumped at the sound of his father’s voice. “Y-yeah, just to Keith’s house,” he said, nervously fixing his sleeve. “He’ll drive me home.”

His father hummed. “Alright,” he said. “You seem a little nervous.”

Lance shrugged. “I am a bit.”

“You’ll be alright.”

Lance’s father had always been like that – awkward at comforting, but he tried his best. Sometimes, it was hard not to believe him when he said comforting things because Lance knew he was so awkward about it that he wouldn’t do it unless he really believed in what he was saying. It was like that for all of the kids.

When Keith’s car pulled into the driveway, his father mentioned it before Keith’s text even arrived. Lance wondered if his father was nervous because Lance was nervous, because there was no doubt in Lance’s mind that he’d been watching the driveway like a hawk. 

“I’ll see you later,” Lance said as he slipped out of the front door before any siblings or his mother could stop. “I won’t be out too late.”

“Have fun.”

For what it was worth, Keith looked nervous too. He was dressed similarly to Lance, with his hair tied up and his weird, fingerless gloves on. Lance remembered him wearing them a lot when they were back in the Garrison. It was kind of nice to see something familiar like them again.

“My parents are expecting us,” Keith said as he pulled out of Lance’s driveway. “I don’t know what their expectations are, but let’s just… play it cool, yeah?”

Lance nodded, swallowing nervously. Keith’s fingers instinctively sought out his, and he’d never been more thankful to have something to grab onto. “Yeah, okay,” he said, breathing out as deeply as he could. “Sounds good. Let’s do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to come down with a cold, so I had to make it short today, sorry :') Entire dinner scene will be tomorrow~


	27. Expectations pt.II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're not welcome."

Keith’s house looked a lot less inviting when Lance knew that Keith wasn’t in there waiting for him. Instead Keith was sitting beside him, hands nervously gripping the wheel. The car had been turned off at least a minute ago but neither one of them had moved.

“Are we going in, or…?” Lance started nervously. His palms were sweating like crazy, so he absently rubbed them against his jeans. What if he had to shake someone’s hand and all they could feel was his gross sweat? Not good.

“Yeah, we’re going in,” Keith sighed. He slowly unwound his fingers from the steering wheel and pulled the keys from ignition. “Just don’t listen to anything bad they say, okay? Like, don’t believe it.”

“Alright,” Lance said. He was the first to get out of the car, but Keith followed soon after. He’d barely gotten his door shut before Keith was striding over to his side of the car, his hand nervously seeking out Lance’s. “We’ll be alright,” he said, even though he was unsure. He squeezed Keith’s hand and gave him a smile because it looked like he needed it. Keith seemed to relax a bit at that.

Keith unlocked the front door and went in ahead of Lance. The house was just as quiet as usual even though there were lights on. It was unsettling.

A hulking figure appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Lance noticed his shadow first, then his shoulders. The man was tall and broad, even taller than Emilio, and Lance felt dwarfed by him. He had Keith’s dark eyes and the same dark hair, though Keith’s was much softer in appearance. He had an incredibly stern expression, so stern in fact that Lance doubted he’d ever laughed.

“Father, this is Lance,” Keith said, gesturing with his free hand – he hadn’t let go of Lance’s own hand with the other. “Where’s Mother?”

Keith’s father regarded Lance with critical eyes, but didn’t acknowledge him. “She’s in the kitchen.”

The woman who peered out of the doorway looked much more like Keith than Keith’s father did. Her hair was long and black and shiny, and her eyes were rich and dark. She had the same, closed-off expression that her husband did. She didn’t say anything about Lance either, but she didn’t seem pleased.

Lance felt something in his chest tighten. He gave Keith a nervous look, but Keith was just glowering at the floor, so he squeezed Keith’s hand again. Maybe he’d have to be the bigger person, then.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, holding out his free hand. He tried to keep his eyes steady as he held the gaze of Keith’s father, but he felt like he was faltering a little when nothing but awkward, heavy silence filled the room. Eventually, he drew his hand back.

Keith let out an aggravated huff. “We’ll go wait in the dining room,” he muttered, before pulling Lance down the hallway. When it was just them, they usually ate at the small table in the kitchen, but Lance knew there was an actually dining room too, which was where Keith led him.

“You alright?” He asked quietly.

“Fine,” Keith answered tersely, before sighing. “I just… They’re being really rude.”

Lance shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“It’s really not.”

Lance couldn’t argue with that. He took a seat beside Keith at the table and tried not to be deafened by the silence coming from the kitchen. Aside from the sound of dinner being made, there was no other noise. It was incredibly unnerving. 

Keith seemed more wound up that Lance. His leg was bouncing and his fingers were starting to cut off the blood flow in Lance’s. He looked like he was ready to bolt at any second. 

“Don’t worry too much,” Lance whispered, leaning in to peer closer at Keith’s face. “It’ll be alright, just relax.”

Keith gave him a wide-eyed look. “How can you be so relaxed?”

Lance shrugged, and gave him another small smile. “Someone’s got to be,” he teased. “I just want you to be happy.”

Keith cracked a small smile at that, leaning closer. “Thanks.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

“You should probably leave.”

Lance jumped at the voice, jerking upright. Keith’s father was in the doorway, looking irritated and disappointed. He made Lance feel insignificant.

“Dad-” Keith started angrily.

“You’re not _welcome,”_ he said. He spoke like Lance was a disease and it made Lance’s hackles rise. “It’s not natural, what you’ve done. You’re never welcome back in my house.”

Lance flinched, and shrunk away from his scathing tone. “I’m just here for Keith-”

“And that’s the problem,” Keith’s father said. “You’re being a pest. There’s a nice girl out there who would be very happy with my son, but look what you’ve done to him.”

“Dad!” Keith snarled.

“I think I should go,” Lance said quietly. He felt humiliated. No one had ever treated him like this before, and he didn’t want to let it go on any longer. He couldn’t argue with someone like Keith’s father over something like this. 

“Lance…” Keith started, eyebrows drawn up in obvious concern.

“It’s alright,” Lance said, smiling tightly. “I’ll just walk.”

He left, pulling his fingers from Keith’s before Keith could stop him. He just wanted to breathe, and the cold, outdoor air helped him do that. He was shivering before he knew it with no quick way to get home. He didn’t get much farther than the end of the driveway before loud yelling and slamming doors reached his ears.

“Lance!”

“K-Keith?”

Keith barrelled into his arms before he really had a chance to turn around. He looked wild and upset, and his eyes were watery. His fingers dug bruises into Lance’s arms. “Please don’t leave me,” he begged.

“L-leave you?” Lance asked. “I’m not-!”

Keith’s bottom lip wobbled before he shoved his head against Lance’s chest hard enough to almost knock them both over. He was crying within moments, small, quiet sobs that made his shoulders shake and his fingers loosen. “I’m sorry,” he whined pitifully. “I’m sorry.”

Lane wound his fingers into Keith’s hair. “Hey, don’t cry,” he whispered. “You got nothing to be sorry for.”

Keith just made that muffled, sobbing noise again. He was sniffily and shivery and probably one of the ugliest criers Lance had ever seen, but none of that mattered. Keith would always be beautiful to him, even when he was crying, and even if he had stupid hair.

“What are you going to do now?” Lance whispered.

“I don’t know,” Keith whimpered. “They said I can’t come back.”

Lance swallowed heavily. He felt like this was all his fault. “Come stay at my house for tonight, then,” he said.

“Can I?”

Lance rang his mother to check. She could probably hear Keith crying in the background and offered him a place before Lance had even squeezed the question out, promising to make sure all of the others were asleep and out of the way when they got home. He’d never been more thankful to have a mother like her.

“Alright,” he said, tucking his phone back into his pocket after he thanked his mother. “Go and pack a bag, grab your keys, and then we’ll go.”


	28. Rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith squeezed them back, so Lance did it again, just for rivalry’s sake.

Keith’s face was red and swollen as Lance bundled him indoors. It was like he’d been completely drained of energy, but Lance didn’t blame him. He had a small bag stuffed full of clothes, toiletries and his phone charger, but it had been one big argument for him to get them. Lance had only grimaced, half-hidden behind Keith’s car in the driveway like it could have protected him from the noise.

It hadn’t.

But Keith had had it worse. He was still teary-eyed and shaking when he’d come back out, his face twisted into a horribly fake, stern expression that fell rather quickly. He hadn’t said a word more than an apology as he’d driven the both of them over to Lance’s house. Lance didn’t really think he needed to say anything. 

It was pretty late when they finally returned home, so only the lights on the lower level of the house were on. Lance knew that all of his younger siblings would already be in bed, but Anahi and Emilio might still be up. He hoped they weren’t around, even though he loved them. He knew that Keith would be too uncomfortable to be around them right now.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Lance said as he reached into the backseat of the car to pick up Keith’s bag. It wasn’t that heavy.

He led Keith in with a gentle but insistent hand to the small of Keith’s back. The door had been left unlocked for him, and he could hear noises from the television coming quietly from the lounge room. He called out a quick, quiet greeting to his parents, knowing they’d stayed up, before leading Keith straight upstairs. 

There was an extra pillow and quilt sitting neatly folded on his bed, as well as an air mattress on the floor. He set Keith’s bag down by the door. “Do you want to have a shower?”

Keith hesitated, but nodded. “Yeah, I feel gross.”

“Alright, you remember where the bathroom is, right?”

Keith nodded again.

“I’ll grab you a towel.”

While Keith showered, Lance set up his bed. It was easy to distract himself from his concerned thoughts when he was working. After he’d done that, he got himself changed into clothes for sleep. He couldn’t help but feel upset over what had happened. It was his fault, wasn’t it? Because he was dating Keith. And sure, he hadn’t been the one to turn Keith gay or anything, but Lance was, in a way, encouraging it. He didn’t believe it was anything bad and he never would, but Keith’s relationship with his parents…

Lance didn’t want Keith to lose that just because of a relationship. Maybe it hadn’t been the best relationship that Keith had with his parents, but it could have been mended. Lance didn’t know if that was true anymore. It made him sad to think about.

Eventually Keith reappeared, bare-foot and towelling his damp hair off. His eyes were still kind of red and his face was flushed from the heat of the shower, but he looked a little better. He was dressed in loose clothes, probably the ones he wore to sleep. 

Lance took a seat on the edge of his bed. “Feeling better?”

“A bit.”

“Are you hungry? We didn’t really eat…”

Keith shook his head. 

Lance laid down against his bed “Turn off the light?”

Keith did, and came to join Lance on his bed. His weight pressed the mattress down, and then his arm was beside Lance’s, his warmth spreading closer. He laid on his back, like Lance did, and they both looked at the glowing stars stuck to his ceiling. They weren’t in any particular pattern, but Lance always thought they looked like a path.

“I’m really sorry,” Keith murmured.

“Don’t be,” Lance murmured back. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Keith shrugged loosely. He didn’t really seem to believe Lance, even though he must know Lance was right. He couldn’t control how his parents would react. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

“I already told you, you’re always welcome here. Just be prepared for the vultures in the morning.”

Keith laughed a little. It was a tired sound, but it still helped unravel the knot in Lance’s chest. He was quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t a heavy silence. “I’ll message Shiro tomorrow morning and tell him what happened,” he said.

“Will he help you?”

“Yeah, no doubt,” Keith nodded. “We’ve always been really close, and he has his own place now. As long as I pay him rent he won’t mind me staying for a little while.”

“Okay,” Lance exhaled once, relieved. “Do that tomorrow morning, then.”

“Yeah.”

Lance let his eyes wonder over the stars on the ceiling. They always comforted him when he was feeling uneasy, and now was no different. Hopefully they could offer the same feelings to Keith. “You tired? I made your bed.”

“Yeah, a little.”

Keith leaned up and stretched his arms high above his head. He seemed a lot more relaxed now, and even tentatively leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Lance’s cheek. “I might go to bed now. Goodnight.”

“Night,” Lance whispered. He watched Keith crawl under the covers before doing the same, languidly stretching out as much as he pleased. The bedsheets were cool save for where they had been laying previously, and as soon as his head touched the pillow he felt sleepy. 

He had almost drifted off to sleep, listening to the gentle sound of someone else’s breathing, when fingers brushed against his own. He let out a sleepy hum and wrapped his own fingers around Keith’s, letting his hand hang off the bed.

“You okay?” He asked, voice already rough.

“Yeah,” Keith mumbled. He sounded tired, too, but his grip didn’t falter. “Just want to hold your hand.”

“Aww, you sap.”

“Don’t even go there, Lance.”

He chuckled quietly, and squeezed Keith’s fingers. Keith squeezed them back, so Lance did it again, just for rivalry’s sake. It was worth hearing Keith make a quiet snort of amusement.

They’d sort everything out in the morning, he knew, but for now he was content just to sleep.


	29. Maple Syrup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance, for a moment, had the brief, wild thought that Keith’s lips would sticky from the maple syrup.

“Seriously, Keith, it’s alright,” Lance said, frantically batting Keith’s hands away from the pancake batter. “Just sit down and relax, I’m used to doing this by myself. You’re my guest, and guests don’t cook.”

Keith scowled at him, though it looked more like a pout than anything else. He hovered anxiously around Lance, his shirt already stained with a smear of flour. He’d been trying to help Lance all morning, but when he looked tousled from a night of rest and still half-asleep he was nothing more than a god damn distraction.

And boy was Lance distracted. Who had the right to look so pretty in the morning without even so much as a drop of moisturizer? Maybe Lance was just being biased about it – others might have seen Keith’s nest of bed hair and generally messy appearance as unattractive, but Lance certainly didn’t. 

As petulantly as he could, Keith took a seat on one of the stools by the kitchen island. He watched Lance like a hawk, ready to jump in at any moment despite Lance’s insistence that he didn’t need help. He was a stubborn little shit, sometimes.

It wasn’t Lance’s turn to make breakfast, but he did anyway. He and Keith had woken up pretty early – before the rest of the household – but not for any particular reason. Lance was used to having other people around while he was sleeping, but it was different with Keith. He thought his awareness for Keith’s presence was what probably had him sleeping light. 

Still, waking up and seeing how Keith was lazily sprawled across the mattress was a nice sight. Keith kind of drooled in his sleep and took up more of the mattress than Lance had thought was possible, his arms tucked under his pillow and his legs spread wide. If nothing else, it had given Lance a truly spectacular view of his ass. Keith would probably punch him if he knew how hard Lance had stared, but it would be totally worth it.

 

Strangely, the first of Lance’s family members to wander into the kitchen wasn’t Anahi, who was meant to be on cooking duty. Instead, it was little Polly, with her soft pink pyjamas on and a book clutched in her hands. _“Dónde está Anahi?”_ She asked sleepily.

 _“Está durmiendo,”_ Lance replied. He left the pancake he’d just poured into the frying pan to sit for a moment so that he could lift Polly into her seat at the table. She crawled across the chairs to sit beside Keith before yawning. “Why you up so early, huh?”

She only shrugged, and yawned again. She was never usually the first up, and still took naps during the afternoon. “Hungry,” she said.

“We’re having pancakes,” Lance informed her. He pressed a comforting hand to Keith’s shoulder as he passed him on the way back to the stove. “That okay?”

Polly wasn’t fussy, so she simply nodded and turned her big, inquisitive eyes up at Keith. She didn’t seem to quite register that he was actually there for a moment, before suddenly startling and promptly handing him her book to look at. He gave her a small, albeit nervous smile and accepted it without hesitance. Polly only ever acted so boldly around Keith, Lance noticed. It was cute.

 _Keith_ was cute.

 

As Lance had expected, the rest of his siblings were surprised to find Keith sitting at their dining table. If Emilio hadn’t wiped the smug look off of his face when he had then Lance would have done it for him with a hot, fresh pancake. 

Breakfast was chaotic. Lance made enough food for everyone, which meant there was enough pancakes to feed a small army, and it was a struggle to get some for himself with the way everyone swarmed the serving plates. He made sure to fill Keith’s plate before anyone else snatched up their share, knowing Keith wouldn’t have the heart to fight off so many of Lance’s siblings.

Keith seemed to enjoy himself. He didn’t mind that Tomas and Val questioned him over everything, or that Emilio was quite clearly teasing the two of them with insinuating comments and teasing grins. “I really like your family,” he murmured to Lance as everyone ate. His voice was barely a whisper above the noise at the table, though Lance heard him loud and clear.

“I’m glad,” he said. “They’re a real pain sometimes, but they mean well. How are the pancakes?”

Keith grinned. Lance, for a moment, had the brief, wild thought that Keith’s lips would sticky from the maple syrup. “They taste really good,” Keith said. “You should make them more often.”

Lance grinned back at him.

“Ooh, what are the two love birds smiling in their corner about?”

“Emilio!”

 

Shiro came to pick Keith up around mid-morning. Keith had helped Lance wash-up after breakfast, and then they’d spent the remainder of the morning sitting on the front porch. Lance had already called in to work saying he would be late that day, but Coran didn’t seem to mind. He was still fiddling with the refrigerators, it seemed. 

“Thank you for looking after him,” Shiro said as he held out his hand. “Lance, right? I really appreciate this.”

Lance was definitely not star struck. It wasn’t like Shiro had been his hero in the Garrison for years, or anything. It definitely didn’t take him a moment too long to put his hand in Shiro’s. “Yeah, it’s no problem. Keith is always welcome here.”

Shiro gave him a pleased smile. 

As much as Lance was happy that Keith had somewhere to live with someone who would clearly support him in all his endeavours, he had kind of enjoyed having Keith over. He didn’t like seeing Keith leave, and blamed it on his protective streak.

Oddly enough, Shiro seemed to notice it. As Keith went to grab his bag, he turned to Lance. “Really, I do appreciate what you’ve done for him. He’s a lot happier now.”

Lance’s eyebrows went up. “You think?”

Shiro nodded. “Yeah, and now I don’t have to worry about him poisoning himself, either,” he chuckled. “You should come over for dinner sometime. Keith would enjoy it.”

Lance grinned. “I might take you up on that sometime, then.”

“Feel free to.”

Shiro gave them a moment to themselves while he went to wait in the car. Keith had his bag slung across his shoulders and spent ages typing up his shoes, scowling at the ground for no particular reason.

“Thanks for having me,” he whispered as Lance rolled his eyes and eventually pulled the grumpy idiot into a hug. 

“It’s no problem, come over any time,” Lance whispered back.

Keith pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was one of those small, endearingly innocent kisses of his, the ones that made Lance’s skin tingle. “I’ll text you later,” Keith promised.

Lance nodded, and squeezed Keith just a little bit before letting him go. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Dónde es tá Anahi?_ \- Where is Anahi?  
>  _Está durmiendo_ \- She is sleeping.


	30. Overthink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sighed. He didn’t want to think about it so much, but he couldn’t help it.

He waited until Shiro’s car was no longer in sight before turning away. Keith’s car was going to be picked up later to be taken to Shiro’s once a parking spot for it was cleared, so it was still at Lance’s house for now. Lance tried not to look at it.

The house seemed a little less bright without Keith around. Lance felt strange settling back into normalcy, because he didn’t feel normal. With Keith around, it was easy to forget what had happened. Keith was quite the distraction, after all, with his stupid hair and stupidly pretty face. 

But now he wasn’t here and Lance was worried again. Just thinking about Keith’s parents and how they’d reacted made his head hurt. He was glad Keith had seemed happier this evening, and that Shiro had said he made Keith feel better, but how would it be now? Would Keith really be alright? Lance knew he could live with Shiro for as long as he needed – Shiro just seemed like the type of guy who would do that for someone – but Keith liked his independence. He couldn’t possibly be content to live like that for long.

He sighed. He didn’t want to think about it so much, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Lance, can you come in here for a moment?”

His parents were both seated in the dining room, so Lance wandered in to join them. The room was empty besides for them, which was strange. His siblings were usually populating every crook and crevice of the house. “What’s up?”

His mother patted the seat beside her, and took Lance’s hand as he sat down. “You know that Keith is always welcome here, right?”

Lance tensed, but relaxed after a moment. “Yeah, I know.”

She sighed, and glanced at his father for a moment. “Something happened, didn’t it?” She asked. “I didn’t say anything while Keith was here, but I’d like for you to tell me. Especially if we’ll be seeing Keith more often from now on.”

Lance cringed. He knew that was fair, but it made him uncomfortable to share Keith’s problems. “It’s just… his parents don’t really like me that much.”

His father frowned. “Why?”

Lance shrugged, glancing away. “Because Keith’s gay. And I’m kind of with him.”

 _Mamá’s_ fingers tightened around Lance’s. Her eyes flashed, but she only pursed her lips. “I see,” she murmured. “Did they say anything that’s bothering you?”

“A little,” Lance admitted. “But they kicked Keith out, and that’s what bothers me more.”

“They kicked him out?” She asked, horrified. “Why would they do that?”

Lance shrugged again. “They just don’t like the fact that he’s gay. Keith didn’t really get along with his parents in the first place, especially not after he was expelled from the Garrison. They’re hardly home.”

His parents shared another look, before his father turned to him. “You know I love you and that I respect your decisions,” he said, “so don’t be mad at me for asking this. But is pursuing a relationship with Keith what you really want? You know how important family is, and if his parents really have such a problem with you, he might come to resent you for it.”

Something in Lance bristled at that. He knew his father only meant well, so he stopped for a moment. If he got mad then he would become irrational and that wouldn’t help anyone. Besides, what his father had said wasn’t anything different to what Lance had thought before. 

_Don’t leave me._

He wouldn’t leave Keith, not over something like this. Keith needed his help, not a cold shoulder. When he brought to mind the image of Keith crying until his face was red, Lance knew his answer to his father was remarkably simple. “I do,” he said. “I really like him.”

“Do you think he likes you back just as much?”

“He came out to his parents because of me,” Lance pointed out. “And he puts up with Emilio.”

 _Mamá_ cracked a small smile at that. “If you’re sure, then we’ll support you,” she said. “And Keith.”

He nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Alright,” she said. “If you ever need anything, or if Keith ever needs anything, just come to us, okay? You know we have more than enough food and affection to spare.”

“I know,” Lance whispered. “Thank you.”

She pulled him into a warm hug, her fingers instantly smoothing through his hair. It wasn’t more than a moment before he felt his father’s arms wind around the both of them, too. “Don’t worry too much, dear,” she said. “I’m sure everything will be alright.”

He could only nod. He hoped the same, but wondered if it could be. It wasn’t so strange to think that Keith would resent Lance for the rift in his relationship with his parents, even if it seemed like Keith didn’t. Who wasn’t to say he would feel the same in the future? 

 

Keith texted him that evening, like he usually did. Shiro had made them both dinner, and although Keith had insisted Lance’s cooking was better, he did send a photo. It had made Lance smile a little. He wouldn’t say he was jealous of Shiro and his dashing good looks, but yeah, maybe he was a little. He would have liked to be spending more time with Keith.

He had settled well into Shiro’s house, it seemed. Keith mentioned that it was nice to spend time with Shiro, which made Lance feel a bit better. Keith had said Shiro was like family, after all, and Lance knew how good it felt to be around family. It was nice that Keith had that with someone, even if it wasn’t his parents. 

At least, after everything that had happened, Keith seemed to be fairing alright. Lance was careful never to bring up anything about Keith’s parents, but he did question after Keith’s wellbeing. If Keith was coping okay, then Lance was sure he would be okay, too. 

He just hoped that Keith didn’t regret anything that had happened. 

He tried to sleep after that, but all he ended up doing was staring at the stars on his ceiling. They didn’t seem to glow as much as they had the previous night. It was stupid, because nothing in them had changed, but Lance stubbornly stuck to that thought anyway. 

Eventually, he reached for his phone. Hunk would always help him work out the things that were bothering him, no matter the time of night. Lance could always count on him.


	31. Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Shiro was helping them plan it, then Lance thought it definitely could be done.

Coran had made the refrigerators colder, it seemed. Lance was blasted with a gust of cold air every time he opened the door to one of them. He wasn’t quite sure why Coran wanted to make the fridges colder in the first place, but he guessed it would be great in summer. The AC in the building was kind of awful, after all.

He was neck deep in the fridges restocking milk cartons when Keith wandered into the store. It had been a slow day, so Lance was glad to have his company. Even more so when Keith wiggled his way into Lance’s arms and demandingly tilted his head up for a kiss. He seemed a little tired, but Lance didn’t blame him. Keith probably hadn’t been sleeping too well. 

“How’s everything going?” Lance asked him.

Keith shrugged. It was a slight motion, but one that was enough that Lance could feel it. “It’s going alright,” he said. “Shiro’s helping me work through it all. He’s speaking to my parents on my behalf because they don’t want to talk to me just yet.”

“He is?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t agree with my parents. He can hardly believe what they did.”

Lance hummed, absently smoothing his thumb over where it was rested on Keith’s lower back. He was the same in the sense that he couldn’t believe what Keith’s parents had did, but it was different for him than it was for Shiro because he had been there when it all happened. It was kind of his fault that Keith had really said anything too, though it probably would have happened eventually. The fact that they weren’t talking to Keith was worrying, too.

“You’re coming this Saturday, right?” Lance asked. “Polly missed you last week.”

Keith smiled. He hid his face in Lance’s neck, and nodded. Lance could still feel his smile. “Yeah, I’m not going to miss another Saturday bonfire,” he said. “Polly is really cute.”

Lance laughed. “She’s not usually so confident around people, you know,” he said. “Sometimes not even family members. I don’t know why, but she really likes you.”

“It’s because I’m gorgeous.”

Lance laughed again. It was such a bold statement that he was completely caught off guard – even with all the drama going on, Keith could still act so carefree. It was reassuring and refreshing to see, and reminded Lance of how they were in the Garrison. Sure, Keith would have never told Lance he was gorgeous back then, but his wit and quick comebacks were certainly much the same. “That you are,” he agreed, “even if you have stupid hair.”

Keith snorted. “Yeah right, you love my hair. Just admit it.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can bring Shiro on Saturday, if you want,” Lance offered. “I might invite Hunk and Pidge again, too.”

“I’ll see if he’s free,” Keith nodded. “He would like it, I think.”

Lance nodded. “My family always makes too much food, anyway,” he said. “It’ll probably be held at one of my aunt’s house this week, but it would give you a chance to pick up your car if there’s a spot ready for it.”

“There is,” Keith said. “Shiro got permission for it this morning.”

“He lives in an apartment, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, but it’s pretty spacious. It has two bedrooms.”

“He invited me over for dinner sometime.”

Keith smiled again. “You should come. I’ll cook for you.”

Lance chuckled. He was glad to see that Keith was still smiling, even if his relationship with his parents was rocky. Maybe he felt a little freer now that he had come out to them. Lance knew that he certainly had when he came out to his own parents, though he supposed their situations were still very different. His parents hadn’t minded that he was bisexual, after all, as long as he was happy and healthy. They’d made sure to make that very clear to him. 

“We’ll have to continue our cooking lessons soon,” Lance said thoughtfully. “I’ll teach you how to make pancakes.”

Keith nodded. “I really like those pancakes,” he mumbled.

“I’m glad.”

Even though Keith could only stay for a little while, Lance was glad he had come. Talking with him was reassuring, especially since Lance had niggling thoughts in the back of his mind telling him that Keith would blame him for everything that had happened. Their entire relationship had started in this store, hadn’t it? Lance made sure to kiss Keith before he left with a promise to message him later. 

If they could sort out the problems Keith had with his parents, then maybe their relationship could be fixed. If Shiro was helping them plan it, then Lance thought it definitely could be done.


	32. Blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _But it isn’t your fault, and Keith doesn’t need you blaming yourself._

_Hey Lance, this is Shiro. I hope you don’t mind that Keith gave me your number._

Lance stared down at his phone, surprised. _Nah, its fine. What’s up?_

_It’s about his parents._

Lance paused for a moment, and set his phone down by the register so that he could wipe his hands on his apron. They were suddenly quite sweaty, and he briefly thought about shoving them in Coran’s newly-modified fridges. _What about them?_

 _I’m working through their problems with Keith,_ Shiro wrote back. _I’d like your help._

_They’re not my biggest fans._

_I know._

_What can I do to help? Do you have something in mind?_ Lance hesitated for a moment, before adding on another message. _I really hope Keith is okay. I don’t want him to have a bad relationship with his parents because of me._

 _I know,_ Shiro replied. _But it isn’t your fault, and Keith doesn’t need you blaming yourself._

Lance had never thought about it that way. He had been blaming himself and thought it was inevitable that he would, but maybe Shiro was right. Keith hadn’t seemed like he resented Lance at all, and certainly hadn’t made a move to leave him, so maybe Lance shouldn’t be blaming himself. It certainly wouldn’t do Keith any good if Lance was stuck blaming himself instead of focusing all his energy on helping Keith, after all, which is what he really wanted to do. 

_What do you have in mind?_

 

Halfway through the week, Keith invited Lance over for dinner. With nothing better to do for the evening, Lance had agreed. (Who was he kidding, even if he’d had something better to do, he would have gone anyway.)

Keith came to pick him up that evening. Lance wore a nice shirt and the cleanest jeans he had, wanting to make a good impression. Sure, he didn’t exactly need to because he’d met both his dinner mates, but his _Mamá_ had always told him to look his best when he met with important people for important occasions. Lance thought this occasion was important enough for him to put on his best jeans.

“Shiro is helping with the cooking,” Keith muttered petulantly as he drove Lance over to Shiro’s house. “He said he actually wanted to eat something tonight.”

Lance laughed. “Don’t worry about it, babe,” he grinned. “I’ll get you cooking better than him in no time!”

Keith cracked a small smile. “That’ll show him,” he said jokingly. “I’ll outcook him.”

Lance was again struck with the thought that Keith looked really attractive when he smiled to himself like he did then. Had Lance mentioned that before? Because he really did. It should be illegal to look so handsome with such awful hair. 

Shiro’s apartment was close to centre of the town, but far enough away from the main activity that it was a rather quiet neighbourhood. The parking lot was underground – Keith got in through the electronic gate with a little key card. He parked his car with ease beside one that Lance recognised as Shiro’s. 

“Shiro lives on the second floor,” Keith said as he came around to Lance’s side of the car. He was wearing his weird fingerless gloves again, and nervously reached for Lance’s hand. “There’s an elevator just over there, come on.”

Lance followed Keith towards the elevator at the end of the parking lot. “You feeling alright?” He asked, curiously peering at Keith’s face.

Keith flushed. “Fine!” He said. “It’s just- it’s like I’m introducing you to my family, alright? My proper family.”

“I already know Shiro,” Lance chuckled, affectionately pressing his forehead against Keith’s temple. “You did give him my number after all. He’s a cool guy.”

“He’s like my brother,” Keith insisted. “I’m allowed to be nervous.”

The elevator doors hissed open as it arrived on the ground floor. Lance nudged Keith inside when Keith seemed to baulk, chuckling. “Don’t worry too much, mullet-boy,” he grinned, crowding Keith against the wall so that he could press a teasing kiss to Keith’s lips. “I’ll be sure to impress.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but he still looked flushed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Lance gasped. “You dare insult _me,_ the best fighter pilot in the entire Garrison? The blasphemy!”

Keith snorted. “You were only the best because I left,” he pointed out. At Lance’s sulky scowl, Keith grinned, and reached up a hand to brush Lance’s hair back behind his ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you believe you’re still the best.”

“I _am_ the best, and you know it,” Lance mumbled, nuzzling against Keith’s head just to feel Keith squirm. When the elevator dinged he slowly drew back, though he didn’t release Keith’s hand. Gloves or not, holding hands with Keith was quite a pleasant experience. At least with his gloves on Keith couldn’t feel how much Lance’s palm would start sweating.

Shiro answered the door before Keith could open it, giving them both a warm smile as they wandered in. His apartment was small and sparse, made up primarily of monochromatic colours. It hardly seemed like there was a thing out of place until Lance noticed Keith’s cropped jacket thrown across the back of a chair and some sort of machine parts sitting on a desk. Lance thought the parts might have been for Shiro’s prosthetic arm, but he didn’t ask.

Keith and Lance lazed around at the dining table while Shiro cooked. The kitchen and dining room were kind of in the same place, so it wasn’t like they couldn’t all chat. It was like Keith had said – the apartment was small, but oddly spacious. 

Lance felt pretty comfortable around the two of them. It quickly became evident how close they were – sometimes, Shiro would snap something in Japanese to Keith, and for some reason, Keith would reply in Korean. Lance hadn’t known that they could speak so many languages, but it was quite amusing, especially when Keith got all indignant and flustered over something Shiro would say with a huge grin.

“What did he say?” Lance would demand. “Was it something embarrassing? I want to know!”

But Keith stubbornly refused to translate, and Shiro only laughed when Lance turned to him. Who knew that two of the most stoic people to ever grace the Garrison could be so homely? It reminded Lance of when his family spoke Spanish around Keith, so he supposed he finally knew how Keith felt.

Shiro made some sort of fancy pasta dish for dinner, something that looked like it should be in a restaurant with at least four stars. Tasted as good, too. When Shiro finished before both Lance and Keith (he’d given himself a smaller portion so that they could have more), Shiro brought out baby photos. Keith looked mortified, but they weren’t anything bad.

Most of the photos were of Shiro and Keith as kids. All of Shiro’s hair was black back then, and he didn’t have the scar across his nose. Keith basically looked the same – big eyes, shiny hair, permanent scowl. Lance positively _cooed_ over it. He was so infatuated with one image of Keith in particular, in which he was probably only a year old wearing a blue jumpsuit with some sort of red, waxy lipstick smeared across his lips that Shiro promised to make a copy of it for him.

Keith, again, was horrified, but Lance mollified him with promises of displaying his own baby photos. “I was a damn cute baby,” Lance declared when Keith asked him why he wasn’t reluctant to share them, “why would I be embarrassed? Cute right from birth, I tell you, no matter what Emilio says!”

All in all, dinner was perfect.


	33. Attitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's because of your attitude."

After dinner, they all retired to the living room to lounge around for a little while. Surprisingly, Keith didn’t seem at all reluctant to sit with Lance in front of Shiro, and dare he say it, but _cuddle_ too. It certainly was quite pleasant when Keith willingly sat so close to him that he was practically in Lance’s lap, not to mention the constant warmth from his skin was enjoyable.

Shiro didn’t even bat an eye at it, either. Perhaps that was why Keith was comfortable enough to act so affectionate around Lance. He really did think of Shiro as family, huh? It was kind of cute. 

Lance started to drift off as Shiro and Keith chatted over his head. It was hard not to sink into the couch – and consequently Keith – when he was warm and content. The atmosphere around Shiro was so different to the atmosphere around Keith’s parents that it was hardly believable. It reminded Lance of how he felt around his family, which was a nice thought. Lance hadn’t really known just how close Keith and Shiro were until that night.

Eventually, however, he had to leave. It was getting late and he had work tomorrow and Keith was clearly getting sleepy. “I’ll drive you back now,” Keith said, reluctantly standing up to stretch. “Hold on, I set aside leftovers for you, I’ll go grab them.”

Lance grinned. “Oh Keith, you shouldn’t have,” he teased. He was so used to giving Keith food that it was rather nice to experience getting given something instead, especially when Keith got all flustered over it.

After Lance dragged himself off the couch, Shiro walked him to the front door. Lance could hear Keith moving around in the kitchen, and the tell-tale snap of container lids being opened. “Thank you for having me,” Lance told Shiro.

“It’s no problem,” Shiro said, grinning. “Nice to finally see that Keith actually has some friends.”

Lance laughed. Even though Shiro was five or six years older than him, their sense of humour was still pretty similar. Much of it involved, of course, teasing the heck out of Keith. “Did Keith tell you about Saturday?”

Shiro nodded. “Is it really alright for me to come over?”

“Yeah, no problem! If you’re available feel free to come along.”

“I’ll see if I can get away from work for an evening, then,” Shiro said. “And about Keith’s parents…”

“Y-yeah?”

“I really do think you can help in a big way,” Shiro said. “If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t think it would be possible, but I’m certain I can get Keith’s parents to get over their issues with him.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“It’s because of your attitude,” Shiro said, grinning. “You have a strong sense of family and I can tell you’re not unwilling to stand up for him. It’s what he needs, and you give it to him. If I can just get his parents to see that then I know we can fix their relationship.”

Lance hesitated. “If you think I can help, then I will,” he said decisively. “I just don’t want to make anything worse for him.”

“I know,” Shiro said, lifting a hand to place it on Lance’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Lance believed him. It was hard not to when someone like Shiro was saying something so confidently and assertively. Shiro had always seemed like a leader, now more so than ever. It was easier to let go of some of the blame Lance still thought he had when he knew Shiro was working it out. He felt guilty about it, but he wanted to leave it all up to Shiro. He wouldn’t – because Shiro was clearly asking for his help, and Lance would give it to him – but there was still a faint, childish urge that made him want to.

After saying goodbyes, Lance and Keith headed back for the elevator. “What were you and Shiro talking about?” Keith asked curiously, eyeing him.

Lance just grinned. “You, of course,” he said.

Keith rolled his eyes. “Alright then,” he said. “Here.”

Lance took the warm containers with another grin. “Oh how the tables have turned,” he teased. “I’m going to have to hide this from the rest of my family, you know. If they find out you’ve given me food it’ll be gone in _seconds.”_

“I didn’t even make it though,” Keith pointed out, his cheeks surprisingly flushed.

“Doesn’t matter!” Lance declared. “They’re just like hyenas – they see I’ve got something and they’ll want it. In fact, I might even eat it before I go through the front door. Maybe then I’ll get a bite or two before it’s all gone.”

Keith laughed quietly. “I think you’re exaggerating,” he said. 

Lance laughed too. “Maybe, but who knows with my siblings. I’ll make sure to save some for Polly.”

“She’s really sweet,” Keith said as he unlocked his car. “She’s different from your other siblings. Really different.”

“Yeah,” Lance said, nodding in agreement. “She’s real quiet, isn’t she?”

“She is.”

“Emilio isn’t,” Lance remarked ruefully.

Keith snorted. “No, Emilio isn’t.”

 

_I’ll be coming Saturday, if that’s still alright?_

_Yeah, no problem,_ Lance wrote back. He had a broom in one hand, ready to chase out the ducks when they inevitably wandered into the store for the morning, and in the other he had his phone. _Have you spoken to Keith’s parents?_

 _Yes,_ Shiro replied. After a moment, another message came through. _They’re being quite stubborn._

_I can imagine. What are you going to do about it?_

_Get them to talk to Keith first. If that doesn’t work, I’ll take you over there – with me, of course. I think they just need time to think through it all, though I wish they wouldn’t hurt Keith like they are in the meantime._

_I agree._

After Saturday, Lance was sure things would get stressful for Keith again, so he wanted to make sure Keith had as much fun as possible. He did seem to enjoy the bonfires a lot, and Lance would cook him something to take home, so maybe he’d be alright. 

Speaking of which, he was sure he hid his leftovers in the refrigerators…


	34. Civil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This will just be a civil conversation."

As Lance had predicted, the next family bonfire was held at one of his _Tía’s_ houses. Hunk and Pidge were already familiar with that particular branch of the family, so Lance didn’t have to worry about them making their way there. Hunk would probably drive Pidge over. It was a little too far to walk from his house, so Keith would probably drive them, and Shiro would follow.

During the morning, he helped his mother make food. He was sure to set some aside for Keith, tucked away in a plastic container that he hid in the very back of the fridge. That way he was certain his ravenous siblings wouldn’t find it before he could squirrel it away to Keith.

When evening came and Keith arrived, Shiro in tow, Lance gave it to him. “I made enough for Shiro too, if he likes it,” Lance said. He glanced over Keith’s shoulder where Shiro was being accosted by his younger siblings. He hadn’t even made it through the door before Tomas and Val were using his big, muscly arms as a jungle gym. He was looking quite embarrassed over it, but the kids already _loved_ him, and Lance couldn’t have been more amused.

Keith glanced over too, and snorted. “Should have expected that.”

Lance nodded in agreement. “Do you want to head over now, or stay here for a bit? My parents will probably take everyone over in a few minutes, once everyone’s shoes have been found,” he chuckled.

“We can head over now, if you want,” Keith said. He dug his car keys out of his pocket. “I can pick my car up too, since there’s a spot for it now. You’ll have to remind me to thank your parents for letting me leave it here.”

“They don’t mind, it’s no problem,” Lance said, waving a hand. “Shall we head off?”

 

His aunt’s house was already full of activity when they arrived. Lance made sure to introduce Keith and Shiro to the hosts, but he was quick to shuffle them away from the rest of his prying relatives. The bonfires had already been set up – this aunt’s house had a really big backyard, so there were three bonfire drums already roaring – and Lance stole the back one for himself and his friends. 

“You have a really big family,” Shiro remarked. “I don’t know if I’ll remember everyone’s names.”

Lance laughed. “Don’t worry about it, no one will be fussed if you call them the wrong name. I sometimes forget myself! Just wait until everyone else arrives, you’ll be amazed at how many names will go in one ear and out the next.”

Keith was nodding, a solemn look on his face as he dragged a chair closer to Lance’s. “I still don’t know everyone,” he confided. “Just Lance’s immediate family.”

Lance raised his eyebrows. “Can you tell the difference between Tomas and Val already?”

“Val is the nicer one.”

Lance laughed again. “He’s just quicker to cave in and feel guilty,” he said, grinning. “Give them a sad look and Val will expose himself.”

Shiro laughed quietly. “You sure do have a lot of siblings,” Shiro said. “How many, again?”

“Seven,” Lance grinned, before he held up his fingers to count. “Emilio, Anahi, Val and Tomas, Adora, Polly and then Luci. With me, that’s eight kids. It’s a lot, huh?”

“I’ll say.”

A little while later, Hunk and Pidge arrived. After they waded through the customary all-relatives-questioning-every-detail escapade, they made their way over. Hunk seemed surprised to see Shiro again but Pidge remained relatively indifferent, though they both greeted him warmly.

As he looked around at all his friends (plus his kind-of-boyfriend), Lance was suddenly struck with the thought that he really did have a great group of people to hang around. How they put up with his forwardness and the way he sometimes got a bit too far into their space he would never know, but he couldn’t really picture his life without any of them. Even Shiro, although he hadn’t known him for that long, because Shiro was important to Keith and he _had_ been Lance’s number one role model back during their Garrison days.

And even if Hunk and Pidge gave him smug, mischievous looks when he eventually moved to sit on the same chair as Keith, he didn’t care. He wouldn’t have changed any of it for the world. 

 

Keith’s house looked just as cold as it did the last time Lance saw it. He felt a little different about it now, though, knowing that Keith was safe in Shiro’s house and not about to walk into a minefield like he was.

“Are you sure this is alright?” Lance asked, possibly for the seventh time.

“Yes,” Shiro answered, as he turned the ignition of his car off. He didn’t sound condescending or annoyed, even though Lance had been asking him the same thing countless times. His patience was quite calming. “Don’t worry too much Lance, they won’t say anything bad around me. They know their reputation can’t handle it if I tell my father.”

Lance nodded several times. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, let’s go then.”

It still took him a moment to leave the car, and when he did he made sure to stick close behind Shiro. He’d never really noticed just how broad Shiro’s shoulders were until he was hiding behind them. It wasn’t like he wanted a confrontation with Keith’s parents, but they really needed to talk. Lance had told his own parents about what he and Shiro had planned, and although they were sceptical they still supported his decision.

“Just don’t let them speak over you,” his father had advised.

“And make sure to say everything you need to,” his mother had added.

He’d promised he would, but he had a feeling that Shiro would do most of the talking. It seemed like something that Shiro would be good at – defending Keith, that was. In the instinctual way Emilio had looked after Lance when he was young, it seemed that Shiro had done the same for Keith. The more Lance saw them interact, the more he was sure of that.

“Don’t worry Lance,” Shiro sat as he knocked on the front door. “This will just be a civil conversation. They’ve had time to cool off, and I’ve got no doubt that they miss Keith. Getting to know you and your intentions better will help them, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay,” Lance nodded again. He’d said “okay” way too many times that evening.

When the door opened, it was Keith’s father that stood behind it. He was as imposing as ever, and his face was still set in a stern, uninviting expression. He didn’t greet them, but opened the door to allow them in. Lance scurried after Shiro, trying to keep his shoulders tall and straight. He didn’t want to seem weak.

“Have a seat at the dining table,” Keith’s mother murmured from the end of the hallway. “I’ll bring in drinks.”

Shiro nodded, and guided Lance by the elbow. It was a gentle touch, one more for comfort than for direction, and Lance greatly appreciated it.

He was sure his knees would cave in at any moment, and just hoped that his nervousness didn’t show on his face. He had to make things better for Keith, after all; he was determined to.


	35. Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance had a feeling _he_ was the “problem”.

Drinks turned out to be nothing more than glasses of water, but Lance was oddly relieved. He didn’t really think his stomach could handle anything more than that, and even then he only stared at his glass of water as it was placed in front of him. He wondered if it was possible to drown in it.

Shiro’s presence was quite grounding. He sat taller than Lance did, and Keith’s parents didn’t hesitate to meet his eyes. Somehow, Lance thought that having Keith’s parents acknowledge Shiro, even when they didn’t do the same for him, meant something good. They’d listen to Shiro if they respected him – or perhaps his family – enough to treat him as an equal. 

“How’s Keith?” Mrs Kogane asked. She took a seat across from Lance, though her eyes did not stray to him. It was hard to believe that the eyes he had come to adore in Keith were the same cold eyes that didn’t even flick a look his way. 

“He’s doing well, as expected,” Shiro answered. “He enjoys spending time with Lance’s family.”

Mrs Kogane pursed her lips. She couldn’t have looked more begrudging as her eyes drifted over to Lance. He flinched at her gaze, and straightened. He enjoyed having Keith over with his family too, dammit. It wasn’t _anything_ to be ashamed of, and he wouldn’t be made to feel like it was. Just thinking about Keith at his home, relaxed and illuminated by the glow of a fire, was enough to give him some backbone. 

Mr Kogane took a seat across from Shiro. “Keith is our child,” he said. “His… problem needs to be solved.”

Lance had a feeling _he_ was the “problem”.

“Keith may be your child, but he’s legally considered an adult, and he’s mature enough to make his own decisions,” Shiro said, voice firm. “Any decision you make regarding him should no longer impact his personal life.”

“His _personal choices_ impact us as well,” Mr Kogane said. “It is completely unacceptable that he’s acting so crudely. It’s inconsiderate.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. Under the table, his hands clenched. “Inconsiderate in regards to what, exactly?” He asked. His voice was still even, but Lance detected a strained twang in it. “Keith is doing nothing to harm either your reputation or yourselves, so I fail to see how he is acting inconsiderately.”

“His actions will lead to scorn amongst our peers,” Mr Kogane insisted. He cast Lance a disapproving stare. “Nothing good will come from this.”

 _“This_ is a relationship, and you should respect it,” Shiro said. “It was Keith’s decision to pursue a relationship with Lance, not just Lance’s – you should be thankful that your child found someone so respectful. You haven’t even gotten to know him yet.”

Mr Kogane’s face twisted, though it was only a small reaction. “There’s no need for us to,” he said. “This won’t be allowed to continue.”

“It’s not your choice,” Lance suddenly said. “What do you mean it can’t be allowed to continue? It’s not your choice at all.”

Those harsh eyes turned to him again. “We weren’t speaking to you.”

Lance did not appreciate being scolded like a child. He was an adult, and it was really time he was treated like one. “This involves me too,” he said. “I have a say in this, because I care about Keith and I want to be with him. I _am_ with him. It would be really nice if you could look past the fact that I’m a guy and just support him.”

“You don’t seem to understand that we disapprove of you,” Mr Kogane said. “Your family doesn’t have the same standing as ours, and you can’t bear our child any children. You are not a good choice for him.”

Something bitter rose in Lance. He remembered that when he was younger he’d get taunted about the size of his family and his race even though he wasn’t that different from any of the other kids. It was the same sob-story nearly every kid had, but it still stung. Lance didn’t care how big his family was or how cruel strangers could be just because of a number, he wouldn’t change anything about it.

And Keith was family. 

“I don’t care if you badmouth me, but I won’t have you degrading my family,” Lance snapped. “What will your _higher standing_ mean when your own kid hates you or never wants to speak to you again? Are you really willing to completely cut ties with Keith just because he’s gay? He’s your _son,_ and if you were anything like _my_ parents then you’d be actual decent people with hearts big enough to accept him just for who he is.”

Mrs Kogane opened her mouth to argue, but Lance cut her off.

“No, I don’t care what you have to say anymore. Keith didn’t turn gay because of me – that’s just _who he is._ The fact that you turned him away and removed him from where he feels at home and safe just because he was brave enough to expose that side of him to you is cold-hearted and mean. He knows he’ll always be welcome at my home and with _my_ family, so maybe he doesn’t need you after all.”

Lance knew he didn’t really mean what he had said, but what he said was true. His parents and his siblings would never turn Keith away, not so long as he remained on good terms with Lance. And sure, he knew that Keith really should have a good relationship with his parents, but they were just being so _cruel._ How could anyone treat their kids like that?

Shiro stood, his fingers finally unclenching. “I agree with Lance,” he said, “and I think that it’s in Keith’s best interest that you don’t contact him unless it’s to have a decent conversation. I’ll be keeping him close by until I believe something good can come of this.”

Lance stood up too. All his bravado seemed to seep out right of him, and he suddenly felt so tired that he was sure he would just drop to the floor at any given moment. He couldn’t even bare to look at Keith’s parents as Shiro led him out. He really just needed to see Keith.


	36. Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance tried to smile, but it was weak, and maybe he didn’t look as brave as he had hoped he would.

Lance hadn’t expected Keith to have gone to bed when Shiro took him back to his apartment, but he kind of hoped that Keith had. He didn’t exactly regret his actions, per say, but thinking about it, about any of it, made him incredibly uncomfortable. What if Keith didn’t agree with what he’d done? He might not appreciate Lance sticking up for him like that.

“I can feel you worrying from over here,” Shiro remarked as he smoothly guided his car into its parking space. “You don’t need to worry, Lance. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He let out a deep, shaky breath, sinking lower into his seat. He hadn’t let go of the seatbelt he clutched in his hands since he got in the car. “I just feel weird,” he said. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“And you should have never had to,” Shiro said. He slid the keys out of the ignition. “Come on, let’s go up. No doubt he’s still awake.”

Like Lance expected, Keith _was_ still awake. There was a faint light shining out from underneath the front door, and when Shiro unlocked it, Lance heard the tell-tale sound of feet padding across the floor. A moment later and Keith was sticking his head around the corner. He looked tired – his face was drawn, his eyes hooded with lack of sleep, and his hair was wilder than ever. His eyes briefly drifted over Shiro before landing on Lance, where they stayed.

Somehow, Lance felt relieved to see Keith’s face again. Those eyes of his were ones he recognised, and they weren’t cold or dismissive. Rather, he looked quite concerned.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pressing closer. His hands fluttered nervously before he gave in and rested them on Lance’s cheeks. Lance tried to smile, but it was weak, and maybe he didn’t look as brave as he had hoped he would. Unfortunately for him, Keith seemed to notice straight away. 

He had to choose now to become observant, after all. “I’m fine,” Lance said. “Perfectly healthy, not a worry in sight. Don’t even give it another thought.”

“Lance,” Keith started, “don’t hide anything from me.”

Lance winced. He didn’t want to hide anything from Keith, but he was just feeling really… weird. “It was fine, really,” he said, though he didn’t sound convincing at all. “Don’t worry.”

“Of course I’m going to worry over you, idiot,” he muttered. 

“How about we move out of the doorway?” Shiro said, gently ushering them inside. “Lance, you asked if you could stay over, right?”

Lance nodded. He didn’t really need to ask his parents – he was old enough not to need to – but he had told them he might stay at Shiro’s anyway. He even had a small bag of his things tucked away under the front seat of Shiro’s car from when Shiro had picked him up. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Shiro shook his head. “No, make yourself at home. I’ll go and grab your bag, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

When Shiro disappeared back out of the front door, Keith took his hand. “Come on,” Keith said. He led Lance into the lounge room and insisted he had a seat on the couch. “Tell me what happened.”

Lance hesitated, but sighed. Reluctantly, he told Keith what had happened as best as he could. He found it hard to verbalise some of it, and a lot of the things that Keith’s parents had said were already fading from his mind. He didn’t particularly want to remember them, anyway, even if Keith keenly listened to everything he said.

“It’s just, I don’t mean to make thing worse,” Lance said. “And I know I can’t give you kids and that my family doesn’t have the same social status as yours, but that’s… It’s not…”

“It’s not important,” Keith said. His fingers tightened around Lance’s, and his eyes became eerily sharp. “It’s not important at all. No matter who I’m with, they’re not going to be able to give me kids – I’m not attracted to the people who can. Kids are a bridge I don’t even want to think about crossing yet. And you know- you know I really like your family, right? I don’t- I want to be around them more.”

Lance’s eyes widened, just a little. “They adore you too!” He said in a rush, his heart hammering. “They really do.”

Keith flushed. “That’s- that’s good,” he said, nodding to himself several times. He shuffled closer, folding his legs up under him on the couch so that he could press against Lance’s side. “I’m sorry you had to do that,” he mumbled, slipping his arm around Lance’s waist. “I didn’t want you to.”

“I know,” Lance said quietly. “I think it was for the best.”

Keith shook his head. “That still doesn’t mean you should have had to do it. None of their problems have anything to do with you, and yet…”

“It’s fine,” Lance said. He hunched into his shoulders, somehow squeezing all his long limbs down into something that could easily fit into Keith’s arms. With his nose pressing against Keith’s neck and Keith’s hands warm against his waist, he started to feel better. “Really, it’s all done now. Shiro helped a lot.”

Keith nodded. Tension drained from his body, and in turn so did Lance’s. He hardly moved when Shiro entered the apartment again, nor when he wandered around, leaving Lance’s bag in Keith’s room before he headed into the kitchen. Lance could hear the kettle being turned on, and the sound of a spoon clinking against a mug. It felt domestic, and reminded him of home. He could see why Keith settled into Shiro’s house so quickly.

“What are we going to do now?” Lance asked quietly.

Keith shrugged his shoulders. “Get back to normal, I guess,” he said. “You can teach me how to cook, I’ll come over on Saturday’s… The seasonal scholarships from the Garrison are coming up in a month or so, right? I’ll see if I can get transferred to the base they send you to.”

Lance smiled a little. “Sounds perfect.”


	37. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d only known Keith – perhaps it was better to say he’d only gotten to re-know Keith – for a few months, but was that long enough to fall in love?

They watched a movie to wind down that evening. Shiro cooked dinner and they all ate on the couches, eyes loosely directed to the television. Lance hardly noticed anything about what they were watching, far too content to direct all his attention to Keith and to food. Shiro was a pretty good cook, even if it seemed he could make nothing more than pasta or rice.

Shiro went to bed early that night. Lance thought that he must have been pretty tired, but he also thought that Shiro did it to give Keith and Lance some space. Either way, he appreciated it. As much as he loved physical affection and attention, it would always be awkward in front of people like Shiro and his parents. 

“You feeling alright, Lance?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded. He shifted on the couch, letting Keith settle back down into his warm spot. Keith had taken their dishes in, but he’d returned quicker than he’d left. “I’m all good,” Lance said, grinning. He really was feeling better now that some time had passed, and sitting with Keith all night had helped the tension leave him. “You feeling okay?”

Keith smiled a little, and fit his arms around Lance’s waist again. “Yeah, I’m fine. Want to watch another movie?”

Lance nodded again. 

Now that he knew the problem had been confronted, he felt more at ease. The weight of it was slowly leaving his shoulders, and although he knew it hadn’t exactly been resolved, they had made some headway. It was a good start, right? At least, he thought so.

Lance hadn’t been in Keith’s room – at least, not for long – before that evening. He had the chance to take a proper look around that night as he helped Keith set up extra blankets. Keith had a pretty big bed – it was Shiro’s spare one, but while Keith occupied the second bedroom it was his – so he and Lance would share for the night.

Keith had a pretty plain room. Sure, it hadn’t been his for long, but it was quite different to his room back at his house. This room was more sparsely decorated, with unpatterned bed sheets and only a small handful of objects scattered along desk surfaces and his bedside table. Lance was at least pleased to see there was a framed picture of Shiro and Keith on that bedside table, though he guessed it was Shiro that had given it to Keith.

After the second movie, Lance changed into his pyjamas and they both moved to Keith’s room. Lance spent a little time wandering around looking at everything while Keith patiently played with his phone before they both laid on his bed. It was ridiculous, but he held hands with Keith and listened to him talk about his plans for the next day and he felt _good._

“Do you know where the bonfire will be held this week?” Keith asked, rolling on his side to face Lance with his head propped up on his arm.

Lance hummed. “Probably at another aunt’s house,” he said. He was warm and sleepy, and even though he had left his blanket at the foot of the bed he couldn’t be bothered to reach for it. He felt like he was going to fall asleep at any moment, and he didn’t particularly mind.

Keith laughed quietly. When Lance peered at him, he looked rather amused. “Are you tired, Lance?” He asked.

“No,” Lance answered indignantly, though the yawn that came right after sort of sold him out. “Definitely not tired.”

Keith pushed himself upright. “Oh, that’s right,” he said as he slipped off the bed. “I have something I want to show you. Close your eyes.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of showing me something?”

 _“Lance._ Do it.”

He huffed, but did so. Closing his eyes made him want to sleep more, so for added measure he folded his arms across his face. He heard Keith walk across the room, and then the sound of the light switch being turned off. He expected Keith to rummage around for something, but instead he came back over to the bed, and then his weight was dipping in against the mattress. 

“Keith?”

Keith’s hands found his arms, and pulled them away. “You can open your eyes now.”

He did, and all he saw were the stars.

Dozens of them had been fixed to the ceiling in no particular shape or pattern. They glowed, just faintly, but enough for him to feel as though he had their shadows sprawled across his face. In the dark of a foreign room, he felt like he could have been in space and it would have been no different.

Keith laid down beside him, and turned his head to look up at the glow-in-the-dark stars. “I wanted to have them too,” he said.

Lance felt like his heart was fit to burst, and he could do no more than curl himself into a tight ball, pressed against Keith’s side. Keith’s heart was beating faster than normal, and he could feel it against his ear, competing against the rush of his own heart stammering. Once a competition, always a competition. The thought of it made him smile.

He’d only known Keith – perhaps it was better to say he’d only gotten to re-know Keith – for a few months, but was that long enough to fall in love? He thought it might have been. “Keith?”

“Mmm?”

“I think I could fall in love with you.” _I think I am in love with you._

Keith leaned up again. 

Lance didn’t meet his gaze. Vulnerable, he turned his eyes away.

Keith’s fingers found Lance’s cheek, but he didn’t make Lance turn his head. Instead, he settled again, and rubbed his thumb under Lance’s eye. He struggled to say something, and then let out a small breath. “Me too.”

Lance turned into his hand, and closed his eyes. His heart raced and his face burned and it was like he could feel every part of himself, even more so for the parts that Keith had reached. 

He really was going to fall.


	38. Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And who was Lance to resist such a sweet request?

“Seriously, Emilio, stop pestering me,” Lance huffed, shouldering his older brother away as Emilio draped himself across Lance’s shoulders. Having such a heavy sloth of a person weighing him down was not making cooking any easier. Lance had never known anyone more persistent. 

“Don’t be mean, Lance,” Keith said as he wandered into the kitchen. He was carrying folded chairs that they’d take over to his _Tía’s_ house, though he was meant to have taken them to the car by now. Lance assumed one of his siblings distracted Keith. Quite possibly Polly, considering she absolutely _adored_ Keith. Lance was pretty sure she would develop a crush any day now and he’d have some fierce competition for Keith’s attention.

“I’m not being mean, Emilio is being mean,” Lance complained. He shuffled out of Emilio’s constricting grip and finished packing away the food he’d helped his mother make into plastic containers. “Emilio, aren’t you meant to be helping with the chairs? What kind of adult are you?”

Emilio snorted, and ruffled his hair once before disappearing, muttering about Lance being too busy for his age. 

Lance just rolled his eyes. “You’re meant to be on my side, Keith.”

Keith set the chairs down by the doorway and wandered closer, leaning over Lance’s shoulder to peer at the food he was packing away. “I _am_ on your side,” he mumbled. “You’ve got the food.”

Lance sniffled. “You only want me for my body and my food, I get it.”

Keith hid his smile in the crook of his neck as his hands found Lance’s waist. “That’s exactly what I want you for,” he confirmed, squeezing his fingers.

Lance laughed quietly. He loved it when Keith was like this – relaxed and playful, completely comfortable in his surroundings and in himself. He was like that a lot more now that he didn’t have his parents staring at his back. Lance thought that living with Shiro was doing Keith the world of good.

It wasn’t like he had completely lost touch with his parents, either. After Shiro and Lance had confronted them, they’d contacted Keith. Sure, it was just over two weeks later, but it was a start. It seemed that they didn’t really want to lose Keith after all, even if they didn’t agree with his lifestyle. They were trying to make things better, albeit slowly and tediously, but Lance knew it was better than nothing. He thought Keith might have appreciated their efforts too, even if he didn’t go out of his way to please them anymore.

At least living with Shiro meant that Lance could see Keith more often. He didn’t have to worry about being home at a certain time – though he was still respectful towards Shiro’s schedule and never made himself into a bother – and he was free to come to all the Saturday night bonfires he wanted to (which was all of them).

Like that night, for example. Keith had become a fixture in the evening activities now, and Lance’s family easily made room for him. He had a chair to himself and if Lance claimed a fire for them, then no one stole it away like they probably would have if it was just Lance. Keith was slowly learning everyone’s names and even a few phrases in Spanish.

“That’s so not true, you’re definitely with me for my sparkling personality and charming demeanour, too,” Lance said, practically cooing at Keith’s flushed face. “I’m irresistible.”

Keith laughed. It was a light, carefree sound that seemed to filter through the room like sunlight through a window. “Okay, okay, enough of that,” he said, insistent. “Kiss me instead.”

And who was Lance to resist such a sweet request?

In either case, he knew Keith would be alright. Lance would make sure he would be. They’d work on his relationship with his parents, on Keith’s cooking, on getting themselves stationed at the same base – and then see where the future took them.

It was looking pretty damn fine from where Lance was standing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading ^^


End file.
